


From These Hardened Hours

by stellahibernis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Background Relationships, Building a Life, Communication Issues, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Other characters in minor roles - Freeform, Pining, Post-Black Panther (2018), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovery, accidentally adopted little sisters are a blessing, but they get better at it, questionable life choices, while desperately trying not to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: Steve leaves Wakanda when Bucky goes into stasis, knowing he’ll have to figure out how to live his life now that everything has been turned upside down. His journey starts in Sokovia with Wanda who has some reclaiming to do for herself.When Bucky wakes up he meets Shuri who knows how to clear out the triggers from his head. She also thinks he’s an idiot when it comes to some of the choices he’s made, and Bucky has to admit she might have a point.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Despite this story growing somewhat longer than I originally intended, I’m mostly sure I’m going to get it all out of the gate before we’ll all be hit by the sledge hammer called Infinity War. This takes into account Civil War and Black Panther, but the aliens are staying on their side of the galaxy.
> 
> There are five chapters all together, and it still needs a bit of work, but I’m currently aiming to be all done by Sunday next week.

Truth is, Bucky never meant to come back.

Not that he is back, in any physical sense of the word. He’s in Wakanda, a country he’d only heard Howard Stark mention in passing before he got away from Hydra, in a medical facility that’s nothing at all like any he’s ever seen. He’s not in pain, his wounds are healing at an astonishing rate, and the charred and molten bits that are left of his left arm are currently being cleaned and sealed so that the electrical static in his nerves will stop.

He’s nowhere he knows, and yet he viscerally feels like he’s back, because Steve is there, just a few feet away from him dozing on a medical table. The lines caused by the shock from the repulsor blast have already disappeared from his skin, and Bucky’s sure his broken bones are on the mend as well. He’s wearing similar soft white clothes as Bucky, ones they got when they arrived at the facility, and he looks smaller than he did in his uniform or even the casuals he wore while on the road.

These days there’s no place that Bucky would call home, nothing that’s the same as it was before his fall. He even went to Brooklyn once, before he skipped to Europe, and there the dissonance was bad, the echoes from his fragmented memories layered over the real city, matching in bits but mostly wrong, and he couldn’t take it. Steve though, he’s changed yes, even from the man he was during the war, but he’s still the same too, he’s still Steve, and hence Bucky is back in the presence of the only familiar thing he has of his past.

After what happened in D.C. it took him a while to recover enough of his memories to really understand who he used to be, but after that it had been a fairly simple decision to leave it all behind, and with it Steve as well. In practice, geographical distance seemed to matter less than he’d expected. There’s been no hiding from what’s inside his head.

As weeks and months passed he managed to piece together a more coherent timeline of what happened to him. He doesn’t remember everything, especially when it comes to the early days of his captivity there are gaps, black chasms where the memories have been burned away, and he doesn’t think they’ll ever reemerge. He still managed to find memories of his life during the war and before, what he was like and what he believed in. The contrast was always jarring between the two sets of memories, too much so, and really the reason why he chose to stay away. How could he go back, with what he’d done? How could he face Steve? Also, he’d known that in Steve’s presence the contrast would be even more pronounced, and he hadn’t known if he could take living like that. Now that he’s here, he thinks he was right in his suspicion that he can’t, and that the clean break had been a good idea. Just looking at Steve feels like staring into the sun, impossible.

Yet he hadn’t managed to completely separate himself from Steve, he kept scribbling down the memories, he kept the flier from the exhibit at the Smithsonian, and he is honest enough to admit it had only been because Steve’s face was on it. He’d looked at it countless times over the two years he stayed under the radar. Being able to look at the real Steve is better and worse all at the same time.

It’s not the first time since he left Steve on the bank of the Potomac. After he’d regained enough of himself to be able to approximate a person at least on casual encounters, he’d gone to the Smithsonian. He’d found himself there, at least on some level, even though it had been difficult to reconcile the Bucky Barnes on the photos and films with himself. It had verified that Steve indeed did knew him, that it wasn’t just hallucination and wishful thinking that he too knew Steve. Used to, anyway.

After that he traced his steps back to the roof where he’d stood when he shot Nick Fury. From there, he could see people moving in the apartment, and stupid as it was, too risky, because he knew he definitely didn’t want to get found out, he crossed the street and climbed up the wall until he found an open window.

“There’s no starting point really,” he heard Steve say. “He could be going anywhere, back to what we knew in our childhood, or what he knew with Hydra. That could be anywhere in the world.”

Bucky hadn’t been at all surprised to find out that Steve meant to look for him. Everything he knew indicated that was a dead certain thing. He’d listened to Steve and the man who’d had the wings, Sam apparently, discuss the plans for finding him. They were smart, even when there wasn’t much they could do without some serious resources, and Steve seemed reluctant to trust other people with the search.

“It’s funny,” Steve said, sounding more resigned than amused despite his words, “the day when Fury was shot, I went to see Peggy, and she told me I should think about starting over, because sometimes it’s the best we can do. And I don’t know if I have that in me.”

Bucky left then, before he heard anything more, disappearing into the dark city. Maybe Steve didn’t know how to start over, but he was different, had become flexible and malleable while with Hydra, and he could use it for his own purpose. It hadn’t surprised Bucky to hear Steve say he was stuck, and it doesn’t now to see him still holding on. He knows Steve is the most stubborn person he’s ever known and letting go isn’t a natural way of going about his life. Bucky though, he had been determined that he was going to start over.

For two years he tried, sometimes with more success, sometimes less. He now suspects Steve is carved so deep into every part of him there’s no letting go, at least not all the way, not from his mind. He kept remembering Steve, even when he tried not to. It’s the paradox of his mind, he can’t really bear Steve’s presence, and yet he keeps yearning after it. Other parts of his life were easier to reimagine, it was simple to slip into a new life in Bucharest, to work, to live day by day, nothing much happening. He’d been content as he’s made almost everything of himself up from nothing.

There is something from his life before Hydra he deliberately has carried with him all this time, hanging on to it tightly. It is his name, for all that he mostly hasn’t used it to introduce himself. The reason for it is that his identity has been on the flux for so long that he needs a fixed point, needs something to build on in his new life. He still needs it, he’s still not as solid as he would want to be.

He managed to make a life, and now it’s been upended, there’s no going back. But for once, it seems that when one door closes, another opens, and he now has a possibility of healing, of becoming the unquestioned master of his own brain. King T’Challa has promised they will try, and from what Bucky has seen, he believes they can succeed. It won’t be easy, he’s not going to delude himself, but it’s enough for him that it’s possible.

Now, he needs to figure out what kind of a path he wants to take toward healing, and what will happen afterward.

***

It doesn’t take him long at all to come to a decision of what the immediate action should be, and when he asks about it, he’s told that cryostasis is no problem to replicate for the Wakandans, and that he should find it much more comfortable than anything he’s experienced before, not that it’s a high bar to clear. Immediately he feels lighter, because he’s been tense for the two years and especially since Berlin about the triggers, and going under means he won’t have to worry about them now.

The stasis serves another purpose as well, it’ll sever the immediate contact with Steve.

For all that Bucky never meant to find his way back to Steve, when they finally were together, he found himself falling into Steve’s orbit almost immediately, the pull as steady and unavoidable as gravity. He tried to keep his distance, at least emotionally when it became impossible physically, and yet, he found himself giving in, responding to Steve, confirming that yes, he remembered, yes, he still knew Steve.

Now he’s in a place where, if he allowed it, he could grow close again with Steve, they already are syncing up, they understand each other without words, move in perfect unison. Yet he can’t, it’s painful still, and also because he can’t help but believe it’ll turn uglier again, already has with Steve having shattered friendships by choosing Bucky, and he never should have had to. He knows too, that if he were to say these things, Steve would gather all his righteous fury, would hold on to him all the tighter, would insist he’d happily go through more and worse. Bucky knows he would, it’s part of the problem. Steve will not remove himself from this, so Bucky will have to do it.

He needs to protect Steve from the consequences, and he also wants to just be able to leave it all behind, to live a quiet life. Maybe there are parts of him that rebel, more and more of them now that Steve is near, smiling and talking to him, but not enough to make him change his mind.

Bucky chooses his words with care, telling Steve the truth while masking it so that Steve hears more than just the words, assumes things that will influence his decision toward a direction Bucky wants him to go. He tells Steve very matter-of-factly he’s going to go back into stasis, that the Wakandans have agreed to help heal him, and while they figure out how, he’s going to be under so it’ll be safer. He tells Steve it will not be easy, that the triggers are tangled with too much of his past.

He says, “It would probably be better if you weren’t with me when they work to extract the triggers.”

It’s a true sentiment; he knows the trigger words, he knows the associations, and he doesn’t want Steve to have to witness the fallout, doesn’t want that guilt on him. He also knows that when he made his request, Steve heard other things too, that Bucky doesn’t want him there, and combined with how he’s stayed away, it’s not exactly difficult to predict how Steve will understand it. He hides it fairly well, but Bucky’s looking for it, and so he knows from the flash of disappointment and hurt in Steve’s eyes that it has worked exactly as he intended. His stomach is twisting because of it, but he remains impassive, projecting calm and decisiveness, making sure Steve knows this is his choice.

Of course, Steve is something of a masochist when it comes to things he believes he has to do for others, he never cares how much they hurt him, and so he sticks with Bucky all the way until they’re ready for him to go under. He knows Steve doesn’t agree at all when he says this is the best for everyone, but he doesn’t argue, just lets the procedure take place as planned.

When he closes his eyes Bucky wills a peace over himself, and it is something like that he finds. At least he got to say his goodbyes.

 

* * *

 

Steve stands by the window looking over the jungle, trying to will his heart to stop aching, because it shouldn’t feel as horrible as it did when Bucky fell. And it’s not the same pain, because there is relief mixed in it, the knowledge that Bucky is safe and in good hands, but there is the new kind of sting, the knowledge that Bucky doesn’t want him near. Over the last two years, even when Bucky never came to him Steve could hold onto the hope it would get better, that they’d reconnect, but no more. Now he knows, and he’s really going to have to accept that they’ll live their lives separate from now on.

That to the end didn’t mean forever after all.

He can’t stay, he knows it. He needs to get some distance, has to find a solid ground in a world in which nowhere feels safe. It’s the only way to start over, the way Peggy told him to try and he so far hasn’t been able to. Now he will have to make it happen, or there will be nothing else left. It’s a daunting prospect, but at least he knows where to start.

“I’m going to go set my team free.” He has no idea where they are, and he knows it’ll be difficult to manage, but it doesn’t matter. He’s still going to do it.

“I’ll help,” comes a voice from behind, and when Steve turns he sees it’s a girl with numerous braids gathered up on top of her head. “I’ve always wanted to take part in a prison break.”

Steve glances at T’Challa, who seems about ready to protest but actually motions her to continue when she glares at him.

“If you’re going to say something about taking it easy, you can save it, brother. Besides, I could use a distraction.” She turns to go, gesturing at Steve. “Are you coming or not?”

T’Challa nods at him, and Steve goes, feeling intrigued and slightly less numb than he did just a moment before.

***

Over the next few days his most consistent companion is Shuri. There always are at least a couple of the Dora Milaje around, keeping a suspicious eye on him, and while it’s not exactly relaxing, Steve understands why they do it and doesn’t argue. T’Challa of course is busy with his duties as the head of the country, preparing for the coronation ceremony. Steve thinks he’s gone quite frankly above and beyond of what could be expected, but the soon to be King is a good person, certain in the course of his actions.

It feels much like the early days after he woke up from the ice, to be in Wakanda, because everything is new and advanced to the degree he hasn’t seen before. He studies the 3D-schematics of the Raft, which Shuri gleaned somehow, he’s decided it might be better to not ask about it, and comes up with a plan of attack that will work with the resources he has, which are the aid Shuri can give him, the quinjet, and one additional pair of hands. He hasn’t secured the last one yet, but he has faith that he holds onto as he sends an email to an address that’s a meaningless string of letters and numbers.

As he works he finds himself often distracted by Shuri. There’s familiarity about her demeanor, something other than the commonalities between her and T’Challa that Steve recognizes. It takes him a while to figure out because it’s not something he’s seen, but something he was. After his mother’s death he remembers being determined to make it, in every way, and he knows he focused on his art and work as a defense mechanism, but also as a way to deal with the anger that didn’t have a good outlet. It was unfair that she was gone, that he was left missing her, and it was either that he was so sad it was crippling him or angry, and it was easy to choose anger.

He sees it in her too; for all that she obviously has a generally sunny disposition, there is a quiet fury toward the unfairness of the world in her, and it gives her energy that she channels to the work, to making miracles happen. It could be a problem, Steve knows he sometimes strayed too deep into the anger, allowed it to manifest in ways that weren’t so productive, and he only actually got over it after he finally let himself to grieve. It required a bad case of pneumonia and the resulting bed rest, but he finally had allowed the sorrow wash over him. He thinks she isn’t in too big of a danger of straying, though, because her support network is much wider than his was, full of people who obviously care about her and aren’t afraid to let her know when she’s doing something less than smart. For Steve there had only been Bucky, and he can admit now that he was too stubborn for just one person, no matter how wonderful, to get through to him.

***

Steve is fiddling with his string of Kimoyo beads, getting used to the interface and the capabilities. Shuri has also made a connected device that looks like a smartphone, so that he won’t attract attention outside Wakanda, but Steve wants to be able to use the beads directly as well.

“You’re less freaked out by our technology than I expected you would be.”

Steve looks up to see Shuri leaning on her elbow, looking at him over the lab table strewn with tiny electronics.

“I suppose in this case it actually helps me that I’ve had to adjust to new things ever since the war. I’ve found out that things I thought impossible actually weren’t so several times already, so by now I think I’m kind of blase about it.”

“So new tech gets thrown on your head and you’re just, sure, whatever?” She looks like she wants to laugh.

“Kind of, yeah.”

He gets an email alert then, Natasha saying she’ll come with him to spring their friends from the Raft, and it helps to uplift his spirits, because not only did his work become much easier, she’s also one of his best friends. He can still feel the relief that washed over him when it turned out that she had decided to help him, because he really didn’t want to have to go through her to get to the quinjet.

“You’re getting everything ready, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, seems so. I can go tomorrow.” It feels almost odd, to think of being on the move again. For all that there’s the pressing need to help his friends, Wakanda has been a haven for Steve, a place to breathe and rest, even though it has come with pain too. He has to go, for more reasons than just one. He knows it wouldn’t stay a haven forever, his own mind wouldn’t let it, and hence he’s already decided he won’t come back unless something drastically changes.

“Did you write the letter? Because I’ve got the communicator ready.” Shuri shows him a device that looks like an old flip phone. “I had to make it look something like your tech, do you think this is suitable?”

There’s an impish glint in her eyes, and Steve has to laugh at the idea of Tony getting it, and most likely immediately knowing it’s not a regular phone. “I think that’s just right.”

She grins at him, and he knows he’ll miss her after he leaves, for all that he’s only known her for a few days. She’s young, and it often shows, but she’s capable and intelligent, with a good heart and the desire to make things better, not just in her immediate vicinity, but in general. It all means he feels easier about the thought of Bucky staying there, because he knows he’ll be in good hands with her.

She shows him a few more things to help him with keeping in touch and for the group of them to have an easier time with staying hidden, as well as his new bank account, because apparently she’d gone and filtered his money away from the accounts frozen by the government. He’s halfway relieved by it, it’ll be easier to hide when not in immediate need of funds for daily necessities, but he still thinks all that she can do is fairly scary.

***

Steve intends to leave without going back to see Bucky, he doesn’t think his heart can take it, seeing him still and frozen, no signs of life anywhere. He’s also not sure if Bucky would appreciate it, since he told Steve it would be better for him to stay away. Yet, he has an hour before he needs to leave to meet Nat, and he isn’t that surprised to find himself in front of Bucky’s sleeping form.

He was right, it is hard looking at Bucky like this. He needs to constantly remind himself that Bucky is still alive, that he will recover from this. He tries to remind himself that it’s enough that Bucky will have a chance to start over, to live the rest of his life the way he chooses. It is a good thing, but Steve is honest enough to admit he can’t find it in himself to be happy over the fact Bucky chooses to live that life without him. But it doesn’t really matter, he can deal with it, and respect Bucky’s wish to not be there.

It’s quiet, the cryostasis machine has been moved from the lab to one of the side chambers. For one, it’s out of the way there, and for two, it’s safer. It also feels like respect that Bucky asleep isn’t out in the open as if on display. The biometric lock on the door admits Shuri, T’Challa, Steve, and Bucky’s main physician, and Steve is glad of the added security, for all that he can’t think of a safer place than Wakanda.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call you when we’re about to bring him out of stasis?” Shuri is standing at the door, and Steve wonders if she’s been there long. He was obviously deep in thought to not notice her presence, for all that he knows the shoes she likes to wear make no noise at all.

“I’m sure. He doesn’t want me here, so I’ll respect that. When he’s up, he can decide if he wants to contact me or not.” Steve adds the last bit, because he’s still hoping against evidence that Bucky might reconsider, even though it might be healthier to just do his best to let go.

Shuri hums, and it’s obvious she’s not exactly agreeing with him, but she doesn’t argue. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Steve gets to his feet and goes to her, it’s almost time for him to leave. “I know. I’m glad that you’ve chosen to help him, I’ve only known you for a while, but I’m sure there’s no one who could do it better.”

She hugs him then, surprising him, but his heart warms even more because of it. “You take care of yourself too, keep in touch.”

Steve promises to wear the beads at all times, and to check in periodically. They go up to the surface where the quinjet is ready and waiting. T’Challa is there too with Okoye, wearing his Black Panther suit, ready to go wherever his business leads. It’s overwhelming, Steve has no words to convey well enough how much what they’ve done for him, Bucky, and the rest of his friends means to him, and so he sticks to simplicity and just says thank you.

“I know you’ve got things under control, but still, if you ever need me for anything, please don’t hesitate to call. I will do whatever I can.”

***

Steve picks up Nat from France, and it doesn’t take them long at all to infiltrate the Raft with some reliable intelligence and the element of surprise. They grab their friends and their gear, and are on the way with minimum fuss. Steve would love to be able to just sink the place, but it would be waste at the very least, possibly even an ecological disaster, so they leave it, speeding away in their jet, invisible and untraceable.

On the way they didn’t talk much about what had happened with Nat, just went through their plan making sure they were prepared, but now that they’re all together again Steve sets the jet on autopilot and tells the story of what happened after the airport battle. It’s hard to try and come up with words for it all, he’s almost overwhelmed with conflict and guilt and sadness, his mind even now reaching for all the things he could have, should have done better.

When he looks up at his friends there’s understanding, no blame in the way they look at him, all of them capable of understanding complications and mistakes, and Steve is suddenly grateful all over again for all of them. They turned up when he needed help, and paid a price for it, but they’re here, and Steve prays for all he can that they’ll be safe from now on.

They head first to drop Clint off to where his family is hiding, he’s paranoid enough that he had Laura and the kids head out to a safe house in Minnesota when he set out to get Wanda. From there they plan to head for San Francisco, Scott says he’s got friends there, and that he can hide well enough in the familiar surroundings. The trip takes some time even with the flight capabilities of the quinjet. Steve sits at the controls, monitoring everything around them even though he mostly lets the AI and autopilot do the flying.

Wanda is curled up in the chair nearest to him, quiet but not asleep, staring out into the blue sky. Her eyes are haunted, in a different way compared to right after Sokovia, and Steve is grateful none of the people actually capable of making decisions on what happened to her on the Raft is within an easy reach, because the anger he feels at her treatment scares him. He wants to say something, but words evade him, and he too stays quiet, just makes sure she’s had food and drink, and that she’s warm and comfortable.

Clint and Scott at least look like they’re sleeping, and Sam and Natasha have retreated to the back of the jet. Steve glances at them every once in a while, but knows there’s nothing he can do about it, they have to sort it out together. They’ve been friends since Steve and Nat first appeared at Sam’s door, but recently Steve has noticed their closeness has moved beyond friendship, and the two of them falling on the different sides of the argument about the Accords has taken its toll. It’s obvious they’re having a fight while keeping their voices low enough that the others don’t hear what they’re saying. It takes a while, but finally Steve sees them relax, sees the frowns disappear, and his heart feels fractionally lighter to know at least the two of them are repairing their relationship.

***

“I think I’d like to go home,” Wanda says when they’re discussing where to head next after dropping Scott off.

Sam and Natasha immediately point out it won’t be safe, it won’t be what she remembers, but Steve stays quiet, just considering the determined frown on her face. He can tell she knows all the reasons why it’s not smart, why it’s going to hurt her, as well as the fact she’s going to do it regardless. She needs to.

“I’ll go with you. I think we can manage, Shuri gave me something that’ll alter our faces, and if we hide our powers and dress in something other than red and blue we can blend in. There are a lot of foreign volunteers helping with the rebuilding, so it should be easy to not stand out.”

She nods, still serious, but obviously less tense, and Steve is relieved that it was the right thing to offer, that this is something he can do to make sure she has things a bit easier. Nat and Sam still appear dubious, but clearly know there’s no changing their minds.

“Besides, it’ll be the last place anyone’s going to look for us.” Steve grins, and he thinks it’s probably not the steadiest way toward making a life for himself, but it’s a start at least.

Natasha nods, obviously already thinking of details. “We should split up, the four of us would be too conspicuous.”

“You should probably take the jet,” Steve adds. “We can slip in and out undetected, but there’s nowhere for us to hide it there.

“True. I know an island that’s a good place to lay low, and there’s a place to land and hide this,” Natasha says.

“A warm island, I hope,” Sam says, and Steve hides his smile. They’re definitely going to be alright.

“All sandy beaches and blue sea,” Natasha promises smiling.

Their plan set, they stop for a few days in southern Slovakia to get everything they need. Natasha and Wanda end up doing most of the shopping, being less conspicuous among the locals than Steve and Sam. They come back with earth tone clothes, practical for spending time outside, basics to fill their packs with, and hair dye for Nat. She looks striking in the platinum blonde, memorable, and yet when she shifts her stance she suddenly looks like a stranger. Steve has always found that aspect of her skills unnerving, if useful.

They spend one final night together, camping in the jet parked out in the middle of a desolate valley. Wanda falls asleep first, clearly exhausted from her ordeal, which was harder on her than the others since her movement was so severely restricted. When it’s just the three of them, Steve notices Sam and Nat glancing at each other and him, and he knows they’re going to talk about exactly the thing he’d rather not even think of right now.

He ends up explaining Bucky going into cryostasis even without being asked about it, it’s still painful, but it wouldn’t be any easier if he waited for them to ask the questions, and from Natasha’s expression he guesses she’s not going to just let it go.

She regards him with her steady gaze. “See, I get why he’d want to do it, beyond it just being safer for others, it would make it easier for him too. What I don’t get is why aren’t you going back there.”

“He said he didn’t want me there, so.”

Sam frowns. “That doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, I don’t much care for the guy and he was a surly pain in the ass for all the time I spent in his vicinity, but it felt like there was a connection between the two of you. He certainly trusted you, didn’t want to just disappear even when he could have after Berlin.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t get it either, but he did make it pretty clear. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

Natasha squeezes at his hand. “Are you sure it’s not just some self-sacrificing thing? Because I know I had a hard time with believing I deserved good things for a long time after I got out and it really started to sink to me what they’d made me do.”

The frankness of her admission is startling, she usually doesn’t talk about her time at Red Room, and certainly not how it affected her. Steve appreciates that she would bare her soul so much to help him. Yet, he doesn’t see how it would change anything even if she was right.

“I don’t know. It felt, I can’t explain it, there was a moment when it clicked, when I was sure we were back to what we used to be to each other, and then in Wakanda he retreated again. But even if it’s something like that, I’m not going to go against his wishes. He deserves to decide what happens to him, since he couldn’t for so long. I’m not going to make it harder for him.”

“We get it. Still probably stupid of him,” Sam says and knocks at Steve’s side.

“I think I remember you saying to your group that healing sometimes includes doing things that are stupid and selfish even.”

“If you paid attention you’d know I also said that one has to stay aware of the consequences, and I’m not sure this one is thought through.”

They fall silent, the others probably noticing Steve isn’t really up to discussing Bucky’s choices right now, especially since he’s not going to change his mind. He sits in the middle of his two friends, warm despite the coolness of late night, and knows he’ll miss them, for all that they’ll definitely keep in touch.

***

Nat and Sam drop them off a couple of hours’ hike from the town where the relief effort is centered, and Steve and Wanda head on their way. Steve checks his messages again, but the connection to Wakanda is down as it has been for the last few days, and he can’t help but worry a bit. Wanda gently squeezes at his arm as she walks next to him, reassuring. She keeps away from people’s heads these days, but Steve knows she can’t help but catch emotions that are on the surface, and he knows he must be projecting.

“We both are in the process of having to sort out a lot of things,” Steve remarks just to say something, and she nods, serious.

It’s odd looking at her, the disguises Shuri gave him change their facial features enough to make them appear to be different people but not completely so, Steve thinks they rather look like their would be siblings. The difference is big enough to fool people, and he thinks he might let his hair and beard grow out, it would distract too. Wanda has her hair in a braid rather than flying free, which also makes a difference. Steve has no idea of how the disguise actually works, it’s a small thing made of Vibranium, looks like a charm on a chain around his neck, and the controlling program is on one of his Kimoyo beads, but he has no specifics. It’s enough for him that it does what Shuri promised.

Wanda asks him about Wakanda, and Steve tells her about it, the story meandering and disjointed, because he only stayed for a short time, and was very distracted. He’s still in awe about what he experienced, and tries to describe everything he remembers as vividly as he can. Time goes quickly by, they stop occasionally to have a drink, but otherwise keep walking.

About half an hour from their destination there’s a message from Shuri. Steve has a momentary shudder when he reads that T’Challa was nearly deposed due to a challenger, but is reassured that everything is under control, and that everyone is safe. She also congratulates him on the success of his mission, so clearly she’d taken time to find out. Steve send his thanks, gratified that she thought of him despite things being a mess back at home. He again reiterates that if they need him, they only have to call, to which she responds that he should just go take his vacation.

Maybe it even is something like one, Steve thinks as they cross a bridge to the town.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve makes sure the whole class gets away safely toward their homes before he picks up his things, says goodbyes to the people he passes in the lobby, and heads home. Or what passes for a home these days, he’s not quite reconciled calling the small apartment they share with Wanda so yet. He’s not sure it can be one for them, not with the sense of temporariness about their stay.

They’ve been in Sokovia for a few months, and they’ve settled in easily enough, they go unrecognized with the help of Shuri’s concealing tech, and far as Steve knows any attempts to look for them are directed elsewhere. He’s let his beard and hair grow out, and with it has found himself relaxing enough that he goes days at a time without worrying they will be found out.

Not that he’s completely beyond worrying; he still needs to be extremely careful since he often helps with the reconstruction and it would be all too easy to let his strength show. Hence, he carries loads that take barely any effort, trying to make it look like he’s actually working hard. It requires a lot of concentration, and so the work is mentally more draining than it should be, since he’s just hauling stuff around.

He likes his afternoons better. Early on he volunteered at the community center to teach art for the kids, as a way of keeping them occupied after school. He mostly funds it all by himself, giving anonymous donations that dictate the money should be used for the art classes, and buys supplies with the money. With his back pay, interest, SHIELD salary, and the investments Natasha bullied him into he has more money than he knows what to do with, and he has access to it all thanks to some creative computer work by Shuri. Apparently it only took her a quarter of an hour, the Wakandan virus slipping easily through the cyber defenses that for anyone else are state of the art, leaving no trace, and Steve tries very hard to not think of how the Wakandans could cause chaos all around if they wanted to.

It’s the first time the numbers on his bank account don’t feel useless; he’s donated consistently to charity since his awakening in the new century, but mostly it has felt like trying to fill an ocean of need with a bucket. Now, he gets to see the difference the money makes, the happiness he can provide for the children who lost their homes and in many cases knew people who died. He gives a couple of classes each day after school, and not only is it great to see all of them find the joy in art, he’s also getting back to it himself, even if it’s only dabbling at this point, related to the work they do at the classes.

It’s a ten minute walk back to their apartment, and he finds Wanda already there, having a video chat with Shuri. It’s a somewhat unexpected friendship, not the least since Wanda still feels remorse over what happened in Lagos. The first time she had happened to be in the room when Steve had a chat with Shuri it had been momentarily awkward, but Shuri had looked into the camera and said that ultimately the fault was on Rumlow who detonated the bomb, and that with difficult situations coming out with a perfect result is unlikely. She’d also added that her father apparently had made a mistake a long time ago, and that the repercussions caused an upheaval in Wakanda and nearly killed T’Challa. The revelation smoothed the road a lot.

Steve doesn’t know many details about what actually happened, the Wakandans are quiet about it, but he knows it’s under control now. It also doesn’t take a genius to understand it’s connected to their outreach projects, which seem to be more fruitful than their first attempts to reach out. Steve had wondered if what happened in Lagos and Vienna would make them draw back inside their borders, but apparently they’re now more determined to become a part of the global community.

These days Wanda is the one who mostly keeps in touch with Shuri, gives updates on how her tech works and such. It’s easier for Steve, since everything about Wakanda leads his thoughts to Bucky, and even months later it’s not much easier for him. Still, it’s fun to see Shuri wearing a cliche  _ I heart NY _ shirt, apparently she’d been there to set up another science outreach center in addition to the one in Oakland. 

“Oh yeah, I met the Spider-kid. You know, the one who was in Germany. He sort of accidentally blurted  it out, I can’t believe he manages to keep his identity secret.”

“He is a little awkward, but maybe he does better when he’s not talking to princesses.” Steve smiles, he’s been keeping up with news, and it seems the kid is doing fine for himself, even for the fault of residing in Queens. “How’s the outreach program getting along?”

“It’s a challenge. I mean, obviously the tech we provide isn’t all that in general, but it’s not always easy. For all that I’m heading the research department here, most of my work has had fairly little pressure up until recently. With the program I’ve got the potential to help a lot of people get along with their lives, to make it better. And many of those we help have so little that I absolutely don’t want to make it even a bit harder for them. It’s a different kind of responsibility, because when I’m working here in Wakanda, I’m building on a solid foundation, there’s more leeway.”

She’s gained a thoughtful expression, and from the way she looks at him Steve knows she’s also talking about Bucky, about the unpredictability of person’s brain. He doesn’t ask, though, he’s made a promise to himself that he won’t. The only way he’ll hear about it is if Bucky wants him to know.

They disconnect soon after, and set out to make dinner. They often cook together with Wanda and talk about their day, as well as all the things they have to keep hidden from everyone around them. Wanda works as a teaching assistant at the elementary school, and she also teaches self-defense classes for those in need. Steve hates that the classes are necessary, but he knows all too well that in destabilized areas those seen vulnerable are all the more likely to be taken advantage of, and they want to make people less vulnerable. Wanda has a lot of hand to hand skills, Steve and Nat made sure she had something to fall back to besides her magic, powerful as it might be, since there are situations where she might not want to use it. She doesn’t need all her skills to teach, she focuses on simple but effective moves, aiming to break hold and incapacitate well enough that her students can get away from danger. Her slight stature actually helps, those she teaches feel encouraged by seeing her being able to do it all, that it’s not about physical strength.

All in all, when they settle at the table to eat, Steve thinks they’re doing okay. They’re helping, in a very human way that somehow is almost more satisfying than what they can do with all their powers. He’s also gratified to see that as weeks and months pass, there are less and less shadows in Wanda’s eyes, and the nightmares are far less frequent than they were when they first arrived. She hasn’t quite found peace, but she’s on the way there more solidly than she has yet managed. Steve is glad he came with her, that she has company on the road, and that he has the privilege to be part of her recovery.

***

It’s been a good day, but for Steve it never has been a guarantee of a good night’s sleep. The brief discussion with Shuri inevitably led to Steve thinking of Bucky, and as the clock ticks toward midnight he’s wide awake in the bed staring up toward the ceiling.

He keeps repeating in his head every moment he’s been near Bucky since he chased after Nick Fury’s shooter, trying to uncover something he has missed. So far, he’s found nothing new, nothing unseen, and he’s starting to wonder if he’s already distorting his memories. After all, he knows any particular memory is only of the last time one remembered it, not the actual event. Even with his serum enhanced brain, there’s bound to be ripples.

Still, it’s not like he could stop remembering.

It’s been months and the way everything happened in Wakanda with Bucky still causes confusion. There’s a cognitive dissonance between how Steve experienced their interactions, how they got closer and closer until the elevator in Siberia where he felt they were Steve and Bucky again in the most fundamental way, that they could look at each other and just know what the other meant, and the way Bucky retreated, pushed him away in Wakanda. He can’t explain it, can’t find it in himself to believe he was so mistaken there in Siberia, that the closeness was just a requirement of circumstance rather than the two of them genuinely coming together.

There’s no use pondering on it really, he’s in Sokovia, and the last he knew of Bucky was that he was in stasis in Wakanda. By now he might be awake again, might be on the other side of the world for all Steve knows. It’s a case of Schrödinger’s best friend.

He’s tried to accept that they may have grown apart, that there’s no bridging the gap, and hence he’s tried to move on. He’s been as unable to do so as he was over those two years when he believed Bucky was dead. Then he’d had no hope, other than what his by then very shaky faith gave him, that they’d meet in the afterlife.

Now, it’s all the more difficult to let go, since he believes they already did bridge the gap, but he’s still going to keep trying.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wakes up, and it’s all wrong, he feels it down to his bones. He’s disoriented, his memory is taking its time to unscramble itself, but he knows this is not like it’s supposed to be. This is not like it ever has been before.

He knows he’s waking from the ice, the immensity of the cold still pressing against his mind, but he’s not cold. He’s warm, he’s comfortable, he’s in a soft bed covered with warm blankets, and nothing hurts. Only, as his memories drift back, maybe this is indeed how it should be, because this is the first time he’s waking up among people that consider him a person, not a tool. Everything he experienced before while under Hydra’s control was wrong, for all that it happened so often that his body still thinks this new way of coming out of the ice is not the way it should be. It’s infinitely better, not that he intends to get used to it.

He opens his eyes to a small room with a big window overlooking the forest. It’s obviously Wakandan from the way it feels modern, even futuristic but just a bit sideways, the development having moved on a different path from how he’s used to. There’s no obvious tech anywhere visible, but he already knows Wakandans tend toward unassuming rather than flashy, and he has no doubt people already know he’s awake. For one, the string of beads around his wrist is probably not there for decoration. He’s grateful, though, that he’s allowed a moment alone, that people didn’t barge in the moment he was conscious.

He’d never say it aloud, but ever since getting away from Hydra he’s found that it’s not easy to be anything other than completely honest toward himself, the instincts of the Winter Soldier make him so aware of everything. Hence he has to acknowledge he actually is a bit surprised that Steve isn’t around. At the same time he isn’t; after all he made it very clear he didn’t want Steve here, and it takes no genius to figure out Steve would go to serious lengths to respect his wishes. On the other hands Steve has always been stubborn to a fault, and more perceptive when it comes to Bucky than he’d sometimes want to, and might have seen through his ploy after the first sting of it had passed. So he’d figured it wasn’t exactly an even chance, but there still had been a fair possibility Steve would have come to the decision to be here and confront him.

But maybe this comes too close, maybe Steve, even if he were aware that Bucky hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with him, still would hesitate, because it’s not exactly clear even to Bucky what he wants, truly and deeply. That would keep Steve away, any sort of uncertainty. Bucky’s glad, because it is what he wanted, what he still wants, and at the same it’s not at all what he wants. The two sides are in constant contention, but what has so far swung the balance on the side of distancing himself from Steve is the belief it’s better this way. On the long run it should save the two of them heartbreak to be separated now, because for all that he’s safe and comfortable now, Bucky can’t really see it lasting. It’s better to cut the strings now rather than grow even closer and have them torn apart.

For now though, he’s here, and the reason why he was woken up awaits for him. He asked them to wake him for two reasons; either there’s some sort of crisis he can help with, or they have found a treatment for him, and if it was a crisis he suspects it wouldn’t be so quiet.

He takes a long moment to let it settle in his head that he might be on the cusp of being really and truly free, no fear of having someone hijack his mind with just a few words. There’s relief in the thought, but he’s also feeling apprehensive, because freedom would mean that he needs to step up, he needs to live. Up until now he’s existed in a kind of limbo, some of it quite literally in stasis, out of necessity as he’s liked to tell himself, but really it’s been easier too to just let time pass and not make an effort beyond supporting his existence and a few simple pleasures. Now it’ll be more complicated; he knows that after this he won’t be able to justify it to himself to just be. He’s going to need something to do.

He lets himself drift toward sleep again. He wants the procedure done, but he’s going to allow himself a few more hours before he confronts his new reality.

***

When he wakes up the next time it only takes moments before he’s brought a bowl of broth, and he takes it as sign to stop procrastinating. After the light meal, which he’s happy to find stays in, he washes himself and dresses in the set of clothes provided. He puts the string of beads back on his wrist, figuring he can ask someone about it.

Outside of his room he finds himself in a short corridor, at one end a huge window, at the other is a set of wide sliding glass doors, and beyond them a lab which to his continued relief doesn’t look much at all like any lab he’s been in before. There are two women dressed in red and carrying spears guarding the door. Dora Milaje, he reminds himself of the name of their unit. They barely avoid looking openly hostile, but he knows they don’t trust him at all. It actually makes him feel better, considering the state of his head.

He hesitates for a moment, there’s nowhere else to go, and takes long enough that the doors slide open and there’s a young woman with two buns on the top of her head gesturing at him.

“Well, come on already, the day’s wasting.”

The guardians straightened a bit when she called out, and Bucky needs no other confirmation that she’s the one they’re responsible for. Going closer, he notes she’s younger than he first assumed, a girl really, and her hairdo and relaxed clothes fit her better with the realization. There’s still a towering confidence about her, a posture that says she has everything under control, which made him first think she was older. It’s the kind of attitude that usually makes him wary, mostly because people like that were ones to hurt him while with Hydra, but there’s a softening in her eyes as she looks at him, a thread of compassion running deep, so he relaxes and starts toward him. The guardians follow after him into the lab, and he deliberately pushes the shiver of anxiety down. He knows they’ll only interfere if he becomes violent, and he very much intends not to.

“I’m Shuri. You already know my brother but he’s busy being king and besides, it’s not like he could sort out the tangle in your head. I really need to do a scan the first thing, I’ve got the data from your beads and from when you were in stasis and through the thawing, but there are a few more details I need to refine for the procedure. You’re not nauseous or hungry? It should take a while before your metabolism fully kicks in with the way we thawed you out.”

It all comes out of her in a rush, she’s talking fast as she leads him to an open area at the back, and only glances at him to see him shake his head in a reply to the question.

“Stand there, please,” she says, indicating a space marked by a thin vibranium ring on the floor.

He does, keeping as still as he can, and obviously something is happening because the screens on the side come to life, numerous schematics and rows of text running on them. He doesn’t feel anything. He waits as Shuri follows the data with her eyes, taking a closer look at her while she’s occupied. He can see the resemblance to T’Challa now, even though her expressions are fairly different. She still carries herself the same way, and he has no doubt she too has received some fairly serious combat training.

It occurs to him that maybe it should be weird or even worrisome that the person who’s apparently going to attempt to unscramble his head is barely more than a child, but he trusts the instincts and observations that all tell him that she’s on top of this, and furthermore, that she cares enough to make sure he’s not hurt more than necessary. That’s the best he really can hope for; after all, he’s about to get his brain picked apart, he has no delusions over whether it’s going to be tough.

“He’s in Sokovia, by the way,” Shuri says, breaking the silence. For all that it’s a complete non sequitur, Bucky knows who she means.

“Why are you telling me?”

“For one, someone needs to not be an idiot about this. He’s not going to ask about you, won’t contact you first, and I bet you wouldn’t have asked either.” She’s right, Bucky had resolved to not ask about Steve, but to let go. “And it’s very telling how your brain lights up when you think of him.”

“And what does it say?” Bucky’s fully aware that he’s being rather passive aggressive, but Shuri only grins at him.

“You know exactly what it does. I don’t think you’re the kind of a person to not see the truth.”

She sounds so sure, and it deflates Bucky. “I did ask to put me in stasis for however long, though.”

“Three months. And I think it’s partly because you’re incapable of otherwise shutting it all out. It was the only way for you to not think of it all, and I can understand you needed a break.”

It’s true, all of it. She’s only known him for fifteen minutes, they’ve exchanges only a few words, and she’s already seen right through him. Then again, she apparently has been sorting through his brain while he was under, so maybe she does have something of a head start.

“So how’s this going to work?”

Shuri smiles, clearly understanding that this is him acknowledging his trust for her, and explains the procedure. He was right, it’s not going to be easy, it will mean yet another brain injury, albeit not as comprehensive as Hydra’s machine caused. She’s sure, though, that it’ll work, and he tells her he’s ready whenever she is.

 

* * *

 

“Say hi to your sister,” is the parting sentiment when Steve leaves the little bakery.

It’s not that unusual, for all that the town they live in is bustling with people, there’s still very much a mentality of a small town where people are up in each other’s business. Or alternately, it feels like the past; back in Steve’s youth the owner of the corner store knew all his regulars by name. He likes it, it feels familiar in a way city living hasn’t since he woke up from the ice, and he now realizes he’s missed it, the community spanning beyond his circle of friends.

They’d thought up a cover story before they came, and Natasha had suggested they should be siblings. Steve had felt dubious about it, considering they don’t exactly look alike, and they very clearly have different backgrounds, but Nat had just brushed it aside telling they could have the same father and different mothers, and the volunteering could be a bonding experience. She’d also pointed out superficial things like that could be explained away, that the important part was the relationship, and that this would feel true to people.

She’s right too, Steve hadn’t really thought about it before, but Wanda is very much like a little sister he never had. After Ultron they bonded over their loss and feelings of being outsiders, and there is yet another kind of understanding he has with her, something different from what he shares with others. It feels natural now to say she’s his sister, and obviously the people of the town take them for their word.

Steve relishes the idea, part of him always longed for a sibling, even when a practical part of him was fairly happy there was just him, because his mother worked hard enough as it was. Bucky was the closest he ever had for one, but it wasn’t quite the same. Bucky had his sister, and the relationship was different since they literally lived together, while there was still the separation with Steve even when they did spend a lot of time together. Besides, there’s also the fact Steve’s feelings toward Bucky especially since puberty have not been just brotherly.

With Wanda it’s simple, they’ve found how to interact, how to share spaces. There are the feelings of protectiveness and support that go both ways, as well as just enjoying each other’s companionship. They’re even closer now, since their circumstance is different compared to when they were Avengers. Then, Steve was her commander, so the responsibility was of different sort, and now that they’ve actually acknowledged out loud how close they’ve become it has lowered some barriers. Wanda is certainly a lot more likely to harass him about his mental state and well-being these days.

Case in point, that night when they relax after the work day, he might as well be the one able to read minds, because from the way she looks at him he knows they’re about to have an uncomfortable discussion. However, he does not expect the topic to be the one he’s been studiously quiet about or that she would just yank the rug from under him.

“You should call him.”

Nothing more specific, but that precisely lets Steve know she means Bucky, and now he also has a confirmation that Bucky indeed has woken up. He doesn’t grudge her for knowing, she didn’t spend much time with Bucky, but she chose to fight for them regardless, was instrumental in them getting away, and so Steve understands her wanting to make sure Bucky is getting better. There’s the tiniest bit of him that wants to be mad at her for making him think of Bucky, and all that they went through, but he recognizes it’s a very childish part. He also has to acknowledge that she isn’t exactly wrong, for all that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take the action she’s urging him toward.

He’s been thinking of Bucky, thinking of their interactions, and he’s all the more convinced it was all real, that they really connected, and what happened later doesn’t fit in the pattern. There’s something more going on than Steve just having deluded himself with wishful thinking up until Wakanda. Yet, there was the request by Bucky, and Steve doesn’t have it in himself to go against it.

“He asked me to leave him be, though, and I can’t just disrespect him.”

She tilts her head, surprised, and Steve wonders why, because it shouldn’t be anything out of ordinary for him.

“You know, I realize we haven’t really talked about the reasons why you’re here, beyond that he went into stasis,” she says, “and I kind of assumed you left because it was hard to be there. I didn’t give it any more thought, because I was struggling with everything else.”

“And that’s how it should be,” Steve says, trying to be as firm and encouraging as he knows how to. “You should absolutely make sure you’re okay before worrying about others.”

She smiles, looking truly happy. It’s come back, the shadows of her experiences on the Raft have been fading and now there are already moments when Steve can see it no longer continuously weigh her down. “I know. Trust me, Natasha did lecture me on self-worth and such. On numerous occasions. Often while she had me in a headlock. Anyway, I’m definitely ready now to focus on something else too.”

“And you decided to dig into my life.” Steve tries to sound resigned but is fairly sure it comes out fond.

“Well, who else is there? Anyway, back when we met, it was hard to get a read on him, he was so wary, and yet it was obvious he was very attuned to you, throwing himself in for his own behalf but also for you. And so it makes no sense to me that he would have just decided he didn’t want to be with you.”

“It makes no sense to me either,” Steve admits. “We connected, I know we did, and then in Wakanda he just said he didn’t want me anymore.”

“Are you sure that was what he meant? Because maybe it’s some self-sacrificing thing going on, maybe he doesn’t think he’s worth the friendship. I know I didn’t.”

Steve thinks on it for a moment. “I’ve considered it, Natasha mentioned that too. He said it would be better if I weren’t there when he woke up, and back then the conclusion seemed obvious, even when he was perfectly friendly. It felt like the stasis was the divider, the end of us.”

“Well, if he thinks you deserve better, then him saying that would be true for him, even though the reasons for it are different from what you expected. And maybe he was banking on you making that assumption.”

“Maybe, but even then, I can’t just go and force myself on him when I don’t know for sure what he wants. Also I’m pretty sure he does need space, or did back then anyway.”

“Yeah, I get that, but as is, you might both be miserable.”

Steve nods, unable to argue against it. “I did tell Shuri to tell him that I wasn’t going to contact him, but if he wanted to I’d listen, so there’s that.”

“I see. That’s better than nothing, at least.”

There’s a considering glint in her eye, and Steve has to try and reel her in. “You’re not going to try to get him to do anything he doesn’t want, right?”

She scowls at him, and he lifts his hands, acknowledging the chastisement.

“What do you take me for, I’m not, and Shuri is certainly not going to let anything bad happen to him. Doesn’t mean we can’t try to make the two of you sort out things, because you’re being idiots.”

“Does she,” Steve starts but shakes his head. “Never mind, don’t tell me.”

Wanda nods, obviously knowing he was about to ask if Shuri agreed with her assessment about the two of them being idiots, which would rather give credibility on Wanda’s theory on the reasons why Bucky chose to stay away, but he doesn’t want the confirmation. It feels too much like prying into Bucky’s affairs without him knowing, and he swore to himself he would not do so.

Yet, he can’t help but hope that Wanda and Shuri will manage to convince Bucky to call him, for all that he’s feeling wary to trust hope these days.

Wanda rises from her chair and comes to hug him, and he accepts it gratefully, because her very presence is helping him live day by day. “I’m glad I’m with you here,” he says, because he wants her to know.

“I’m glad you came with me.” She squeezes him hard for a few moments more.

 

* * *

 

Bucky sits by the lake, eyes closed, not really thinking about anything. It’s late enough in the day that the sun isn’t burning too strongly anymore and there’s no need to seek shadows. The sounds of people making dinner and getting on with their evening activities, the children playing, are all around him. There’s one group of kids that’s creeping toward him, trying to be quiet and not succeeding very well, but he studiously ignores them.

When he first came to the village the children were curious but a little afraid since he was the first outsider they’d ever seen. As time has passed, they’ve shed their fear and now mostly pretend to be afraid of him, often playing around him. One of them finally creeps close enough for him to make a playful grab that just misses and causes all of them to sprint away while scream-laughing. He has to use every ounce of determination he has to not smile.

It’s easier these days for him to smile, it’s been coming back as he’s been recovering. The procedure to remove the triggers had worked, but as expected it had left his brain literally bruised, connections cut between memories, and for a while it had felt almost like it did after a mindwipe, there had been a sense of calmness that had always come with the emptiness. This time of course he hadn’t been empty, he’d kept his memories, but they’d felt distant, there hadn’t been an emotional connection to any of it.

It was all expected, there was no way to undo everything Hydra put inside his head without causing some damage, even some additional memory loss, but as far as they know for now, nothing major got lost and he’s recovering at a fast pace.

He stayed at the room where he woke up for a few days after the procedure, to make sure there wouldn’t be any complications, but soon enough Shuri suggested he’d be relocated to the village for the rest of his recovery period. Apparently his stress levels were continuously up, and Shuri guessed it was due to the obviously advanced technology around him, for all that it’s all very well integrated and not flashy. For decades seeing things that were more advanced than the general population knew of had always meant pain and suffering for him, and even in Wakanda his subconsciousness expected something bad to happen. The stress was interfering with the recovery, so something needed to be done. 

The village life is something completely new for him. It’s a curious mix of lifestyle that has carried on for several millennia, and technological aids well beyond anything Bucky’s seen outside of Wakanda. It’s quiet, though, and the tech is kept hidden from prying eyes and as soon as he arrived he felt calmness he hasn’t since his fight with Steve on the helicarrier, and it has stayed with him during the weeks he has spent there.

At first he barely spoke, he slept for fifteen to eighteen hours every day to heal his brain, and mostly stayed in his little house. Bit by bit he started to venture outside, and as he did he was given tasks that he could achieve one handed. He’s still stronger than regular people, so he’s done a lot of pulling and lifting, as well as crushing spices in the mortar or grinding flour. He’s glad to help, glad to have easy tasks for which he doesn’t have to think too much. He knows the elders of the community don’t quite trust him, not even with Shuri bringing him, but they’ve accepted him enough to give him a new name, and it works for him.

Shuri comes to see him every once in a while to scan his brain and make sure his recovery proceeds smoothly. She tells him about the science outreach that’s keeping her busy, as well as funny anecdotes from her life. Bucky has found it easy to trust her, more than he expected, but she seems to slip into a spot that his own sister used to occupy, and it makes their interactions easier.

Bucky has been thinking of his family a lot more than he has at any point since he escaped Hydra. He had looked them up soon after D.C. as a part of the process of figuring out who he was, had found out Becca had become an investigative journalist and made a remarkable career as well as lived an apparently fulfilling life. She’d never married, had passed away a few months after Steve was found in the Arctic, and as such there are no living close relatives of his left. Bucky is somewhat ashamed to admit to himself he’s relieved about that, he wouldn’t want them to have to live with knowing what he’s done, with what happened to him.

Yet, he keeps thinking back to the happy days he had with his family, of taking Becca out to ice cream and being proud of her progress at school. It comes back more vivid than he has remembered any of it so far, and his family memories are the first ones he feels connection to again. As a result he finds himself chatting to Shuri easily, responding to her banter and feeling even a little protective over her, even when he’s sure she’s more than capable of handling herself.

Now that he’s getting better, it’s obvious to him that she too is recovering, the grief of losing her father is a shadow around her, even when there’s something complicated about it that he doesn’t want to prod at. He gathers it has something to do with the short upheaval he completely slept through and doesn’t know that much about, no one is keen on talking about it even when the results of it are clearly visible. She’s obviously dealing with it all by working, and she seems to be doing well, but he can’t help but try and make sure she’s fine whenever they talk.

Everything else is still distant emotionally, and it makes it complicated for him, because he thinks he should be feeling something real toward Steve. He knows for a fact he does, but he just can’t access it now. The rational part of him notes that since the process has happened like this, it’s probably a good thing that Steve isn’t anywhere near experiencing the distance while being around each other. He wouldn’t want to hurt Steve with it. Of course, if Steve was around, maybe the distance would have already faded away, but there’s no knowing. It’s easier like this, not to feel so keenly the consequences of pushing Steve away, but now that it’s only the more rational part of him looking at it, the arguments as to why it’s better to be apart have started to look flimsier every day.

Shuri clearly thinks the reasons are not that solid, since she’s told him about Steve, about how he’s now living in Sokovia with Wanda, pretending to be a regular person helping with the rebuilding. She has also programmed Steve’s contact information on his communication bead, and told him Steve said he’d be happy to hear from him, but that he wouldn’t be the first to call. Since it turned out Steve left for real, it doesn’t surprise Bucky at all that he still left a message like this. He’s respecting Bucky’s request by giving him space while still reaching out, despite Bucky avoiding him for two years and pushing him away again in Wakanda. That makes Bucky question the wisdom of trying to stay apart, makes him think that maybe the potential happiness is worth more than the risk.

He’s not ready to reach out yet, and hence he doesn’t call, for all that he feels guilty for it, knowing that it must weigh on Steve to have no news. He’s not sure if it would be better to reform the connections in his mind by himself, or call Steve and let him help. There are so many questions though, ones he’s been turning around in his head ever since he started remembering after DC, and he knows he’s not ready to bring those up with Steve. And maybe for as long as he’s unsure of his own feelings, it would just muddle things up to be in Steve’s presence.

He’s in the middle of considering when it would be the best time to contact Steve when he remembers that he actually meant to not do so, and hence the line of thoughts should be irrelevant. It makes him pause, makes him go over his thought process again, and it’s then that he has to admit that he doesn’t want them to stay apart forever, doesn’t want them to never contact each other again. It should feel like a defeat maybe, but it doesn’t, it’s a step on a new path instead, even when he’s nowhere near ready to actually make the connection again, or admitting the mistake he made.

He doesn’t call, and he stays in the village, drawing in the quiet that he’s learned to enjoy. He never used to like it before the war, he liked to be on the move, liked to be the center of attention. Later during the war quiet was often his friend, allowing him to spot enemies, but he never trusted it, there were moments when all it seemed to do was carry dread. Now he finds it relaxing, easy, and it helps him sort out the things in his head.

There’s still a lot for him to figure out, but now he thinks he might even have time to do so.


	3. Chapter 3

Days in the village by the lake pass, and Bucky reaches a state where he again sleeps a normal amount of hours, or at least no more than that. Sometimes it’s less, because with the distance fading from his head the nightmares are finding their way back. He battles them by trying to exert himself, working hard so that when he goes to sleep he’s too exhausted to dream, but it doesn’t really work. The village is run well, and while there are plenty of boring and tiresome tasks the people are happy to give up to him, it doesn’t add up to enough. His enhanced physique takes every challenge he gives it and passes, as he knew it would.

Since the world isn’t about to give him a complete break, after the memories of his family the next ones that really connect are from being the soldier of Hydra. They’re more exhausting than any of the physical labor, because on the top of them is his frustration over the fact that he’s already dealt with all of it once. During the two years before he was found in Bucharest he turned every memory around, he stared into the deepest darkness, faced every horror. He went through them all, and he moved past them, learned what he needed from them to make sure he would never again be a person who did such things, and left them behind. He’d taken the first tentative steps toward life after it all, not that it had been much of one yet, but the possibility had been there.

Now that his mind has been rearranged once again, and everything was temporarily mixed up, the memories are coming back as intense as ever, and he has to work through them once more. It’s somewhat easier than it was the first time around since he at least now knows where the pitfalls are, which helps him to navigate through the memories more swiftly. Another difference is that he is now a part of a community even when this is his battle alone. Now, somehow, without him even having noticed it, he has gained a life that carries him along even when he struggles with the monsters lurking in his head. The daily tasks and people around that know he’s struggling are helping him keep track of the progress of time.

The way things come back forces him to deal with them at least partly in the order they come to him, but he does push too, he dredges up the memories of his childhood set outside his home, of the games he played with Steve, of afternoons spent sitting by his bed when he was too ill to get up, of sharing an apartment when they were older, of making do even during the hard years. He thinks of Steve, and hates that it all still feels distant, that all of him feels distant even when Bucky knows more clearly than anything there’s no one and nothing more important to him. It’s a paradox that rankles him, and hence he keeps pushing, keeps grasping for the core of it all, but it always slips through his fingers.

***

“So tell me,” Shuri says, sitting in front of him, keeping an eye on the data from the portable brain scanner projected on the holoscreen, “how is it that you and Steve quite clearly would move heaven and earth for each other and yet can’t do the one thing that in all probability would make you both happier?”

She always asks him questions when the scan is in progress, apparently making his brain active allows her to see how the pathways work and if there are any areas that are left in the dark. She says there are still dark patches, but that they are getting smaller and smaller every time she takes a look. This time she’s brought the big guns, not only asking about Steve, but making him really confront the fact that he may have made a mistake forcing them apart.

Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way because it’s safer, but on the other hand there is the probability of them becoming happier like she suggested, and happiness, he’s starting to think, is invaluable. So much so, that it would be worth risking even safety for it, that life would only mean something if he were to really live it. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s coming to the conclusion that it’s the truth.

The next thought down that line is than considering the way he is now, he’s not sure if they would be happier. He wonders how it would work if the distance in his head would linger even with them together. He wouldn’t want Steve to experience that, because he obviously remembers and feels as keenly as he ever did, and if they were so out of sync it might just create a new divide between the two of them. Of course, the yet another following thought is that maybe the distance would dissipate when the two of them came together. On and on, it’s a never ending argument with himself, and never really leads to anything, except to one certainty.

“I’m not ready yet,” he says, a pitifully simple explanation for the chaos in his head, but he has no words for it, and besides, she’s literally seen into his head, she probably knows a lot more than she says.

Shuri purses her lips as she waves the screen away and lifts the thin vibranium circlet from his head. “Well, at least you’re now implying that one day you will be, instead of saying never. That’s progress I guess.”

It is, and he is starting to allow himself to think along those lines instead of pushing the thought away whenever it appears. He meant to keep away from Steve to protect him, but now he’s thinking maybe their paths lead toward each other again, maybe it’s inevitable. At least if Steve still wants it, which Bucky doesn’t know for sure, even with all the hints Shuri has dropped on him.

“So, what of another kind of progress? Are you ready to come back to the city? Because I know you like it here, but it’s not really you.”

She’s right about that too, but it’s a major step, a change that would signal the end of this particular phase in his life. He looks over the lake, drawing in the calmness. There are no answers in the horizon.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, knowing it’s the first step already.

***

The distance, much as he hates it, makes it actually easier for him to examine exactly what he has felt toward Steve at different points of his life. Looking at it from just a bit outside gives him a new perspective, a new honesty about himself. For a while he also tries to figure out a why of it all, why did Steve so fast become the center of his young life when they were just children, why did it last through all the years, even the decades of mindwipes. Even now, even with the distance, and the actual human connections he has forged in Wakanda for a contrast, it’s still the fact of his life that Steve is the most important person for him, always will be. He realizes soon enough that it’s futile to think of whys for emotions, because why is a question for which the answer is a reason, not something ephemeral yet solid. The answer is just because, and hence the question irrelevant.

It’s not hard to see now that he loved Steve, and for the last decade or so before the train in more ways than he was supposed to. He also knows Steve loved him back. They just never did anything about it, and it puzzles him. He understands all the practical reasons, including the illegality of such a relationship, and yet looking at the two of them it makes no sense. He’s missing something, for all the honesty he can afford to himself.

He loved Steve, but he doesn’t know if he does now. It feels like it should be different from the absolute knowledge of Steve’s importance, it should bring more than calm certainty to him, and he can’t quite reach any of the emotions he remembers having had for Steve; joy, exasperation, fear, even anger, contrasted with the bright happiness. All of those flashes of heat and cold in his memories, in contrast of how everything feels evenly lukewarm when he now reaches for Steve. That can’t be love, can it?

He sometimes stares at the contact information for Steve, but he doesn’t call, isn’t even close to doing so. He has other contacts too, included among them Wanda’s, and he is almost tempted to call her, for all that they actually don’t know each other that well. She’s with Steve, and he would like to find a bit closer connection, but he ultimately decides to not go for it, if only because he’s not sure at all that she wouldn’t just put Steve on.

He keeps turning the dilemma around in his head, and finally has to admit he’s not moving forward. The truth is that he wants to, and the direction isn’t toward a peaceful village life, for all that it has been more valuable than all the vibranium in the world for him during his recovery.

A day before Shuri is scheduled to come for the next set of scans he calls her and just says, “I’m ready to come back.”

 

* * *

 

Steve is intending to call Nat when he pauses, because there is a new entry in his contact listing. It’s Bucky, and the attached photo is of him sitting somewhere out by a lake, dressed in what Steve assumes is a traditional garb somewhere in Wakanda. He stares at the photo for a long time, because it’s a concrete proof that Bucky is awake again. He’s known it, Shuri has let it through even when she has mostly respected his wish to not talk about Bucky, but knowing in the abstract way and actually having proof, even if it’s just a photo, are in completely different realms.

In the photo Bucky looks calm, peaceful even, and Steve’s heart constricts; he realizes he’s so happy it hurts. For all that he has wishes, fantasies of what life could in all the best scenarios be with Bucky, and the reality is not even close, he thinks now that even this, just knowing Bucky is safe and cared for, awake and not in pain, is enough.

It also isn’t, but that’s the selfish part of him speaking. As long as Bucky finds a life where he’s content, whether it includes Steve or not, he’ll accept it, he’ll learn to live with it. Up until now he’s always felt a bit guilty of being happy that Bucky is somewhere in the world, even when he was hiding, because getting here put him through so much pain, most of which Steve knows he doesn’t understand and never can. Now, having seen the calm Bucky radiates, he’s feeling a bit better of thinking that just Bucky living his life is better than him being completely gone.

A smile that he knows is crooked steals onto his face; he knows his thought process now doesn’t really reflect all the teachings of his faith that he got from his mother and the church. Living a life well, as Bucky had, according to his faith would lead to passing into a better place, and Bucky if anyone would deserve it. Steve doesn’t know anyone as selfless as Bucky, who worked hard to help his own family, to help Sarah whenever she was feeling under weather and during the last months of her life when she was fading to the illness, to make sure Steve survived time and time again, that he made it. Had Bucky died in the fall, he would be somewhere comfortable and happy now instead of having to fight over the control of his own mind, and Steve knows it probably is a sin to think the way things are now is better. It all probably does come back to selfishness after all.

He puts the phone away without calling anyone. He’s too shaken to talk to Nat, and he’s not calling Bucky, for all that the photo is almost a dare. He promised he’d let Bucky take the step, if he so chooses, and he will not go back on his word.

***

It’s quiet at their apartment that night, Steve is immersed so deep in his thoughts he doesn’t really pay attention to Wanda before she sits right next to him on the couch and says, “You’re leaking.”

It takes Steve a moment to understand what she means, but he soon remembers her telling him that when people’s emotions are intense or if they’re deeply focused on something, it comes at least partly through even when she’s keeping her barriers up between herself and everyone else. She’s said it’s always tricky, she usually doesn’t know if she should mention it or not.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to gather the thoughts and push the jumble away.

“It’s okay, can’t help it, because feeling is human after all.” She gives him a little smile. “Just thought it would be fair to mention it comes through to me, in case it bothers you.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Steve is honest too; with most people it would bother him that they were getting glimpses of his inner turmoil about Bucky, but Wanda understands. He hasn’t told her everything, but what he has is enough for her to get it, and there is an instinctual understanding between the two of them, always has been. They understand the struggles of each other, even when they don’t fully know the details.

They don’t talk about it, just sit close to each other, watching episode after episode of  _ Brooklyn 99 _ as the night darkens.

They’re just debating on whether to go to sleep or watch one more episode when there’s the unmistakable sound of gunfire coming from toward the center of the town, and they’re spurred into action. For all that they’ve been lying low, they’re not about to just stand aside when they can help, and they’ve made plans for the eventuality.

The key thing is that they need to look like themselves, their Avenger selves, instead of the brother and sister pair of volunteer workers. They need only moments to dress, but instead of their practical earth tone jackets they tend to wear, Wanda pulls on her red coat salvaged from the Raft, and Steve the blue motorcycle jacket he’s had for years. He swiftly switches to the other disguise Shuri programmed for him, one that masks his beard but otherwise shows his own features, making him look more like the Captain America people know. Wanda just disables hers and shakes her hair loose from the braid she usually wears before they jump out of the kitchen window to the back alley, and head toward the noise. As they go, Steve sends an alert to Shuri, just in case.

At the market square there’s a mayhem, but it’s not really a fight, because the locals have cleared away, and the police are making barriers, hesitant to proceed. Steve understands their confusion, because the group brandishing weapons in the middle of the square is not a fighting unit, they look more like a mob, except one without any purpose. They’re sometimes shooting into the air, they’re beating each other with baseball bats, yelling incoherently, and some of them are shuffling around like zombies. They all wear black shirts with a large print of the Hydra symbol in red.

As they approach the barrier Steve thinks there’s about an even chance on whether the police are going to treat them like enemies as well, but the captain in charge takes only a moment of thought before allowing them to pass, and they enter the square.

They make about half the distance toward the group before they’re noticed, then the group turns toward them as one and rushes at them, much like zombies in some of the movies Steve caught with the SHIELD STRIKE team on some of their gatherings. There’s something definitely wrong here, starting with the fact they don’t know whether these people chose to be Hydra or if they were captured and drugged.

“Stop them, don’t kill,” he calls at Wanda who acknowledges just before they’re pretty much overrun.

The horde isn’t composed of any practiced fighters, but they’re tenacious, won’t stop before they’re unconscious, and there are something like three dozen of them, so it takes a while. They manage though, and when things have quieted down the police come out to handcuff the mob to make sure they’re contained when they wake up. Steve warns them about the potential drugs or some other way they are being controlled, and the captain thankfully takes it seriously. He can tell the Sokovians don’t exactly trust him and Wanda, they are still wary, but they’re not hostile at least. It’s about as good as Steve expected.

His phone buzzes with a message from Shuri, telling him the Avengers and the UN team are on the way and that they should make sure their disguises are in place before anyone appears. He sees the captain has also been contacted, and he signals at Wanda to head away. No one tries to stop them, despite the outstanding international warrant for both of them.

They take advantage of the cover of night and the back alleys, and make it back to their apartment undetected. They do their regular evening things and head to bed, because there really isn’t anything else they can do for now, unless there’s another attack.

Steve lies in the bed awake for long afterward, the adrenaline rush from the fight slow to go down even though in context of all the battles he has fought, it was barely worth a mention. Still, it’s been a while, and in the meantime he’s done a lot of thinking about what he wants to be and do, and this night does feel like a significant part of that process.

He gets what Hydra was aiming at, and he’s not surprised that branches of it are still active and finding new ways to work. Now that they’ve been exposed and the world knows about them, they’re sometimes proverbially yelling that they’re still around, causing chaos that way. Targeting a hit at a country devastated under extremely controversial circumstances makes everyone feel vulnerable, and at that state of mind people are a lot more willing to give up their power in exchange for protection. It’s increasingly important to root out Hydra, but as far as Steve knows, the Avengers aren’t really allowed to go for it, not even covertly according to Shuri. Her information should be accurate, since Wakanda keeps tabs on the missions, both open and classified. 

During the months Steve has spent as a volunteer he has thoroughly considered the possibility of quitting fighting for good, living life as a regular person, helping in the ways he can without his powers. It’s an enticing prospect on one hand, he has been worn thin ever since he was woken up, and hasn’t really made other kind of life for himself before he started to do so after he came to Sokovia with Wanda. Yet, he knows it now, this has been a reminder that he can’t just stand aside, can’t see injustice and not do something, and with his abilities he can do a lot. There are still battles that need to be fought, there are still people that need protection, and he now knows he’s not ready to pass that duty fully on to others.

He’s going to need to make adjustments in his life, needs to make sure there’s a balance that allows him to be at his best when needed. He needs to be Steve Rogers, the person he was born first and foremost, and the enhanced fighter only second.

***

The next morning they’re back at the square, part of which is still cordoned off. They went because it would be weird if they didn’t, as most of their friends and neighbors are there too, trying to get news and have a glimpse of the Avengers. It’s not the giddy excitement Steve remembers from after New York, these people are solemn and serious, distrusting as is expected. He and Wanda slowly drift closer to see better, moving with the crowd, avoiding drawing attention to themselves. Tony and Vision are there, as well as Thaddeus Ross, who climbs onto the stairs of the city hall to speak to the crowd. It’s pretty much politician speak as Steve expected, the promises that those responsible will be dealt with, that no one should worry and that the town is safe. That they’re all grateful that there had only been minor casualties.

“Not that you people had anything to do with that,” someone yells, and Steve is gratified to see Ross tense. 

“What’s the American Secretary of State doing leading a UN team,” another voice yells, and Steve is glad that one came up, since it seems rather fishy that Ross is doing this. People should be questioning it and the power the US government seems to have over the Avengers.

Next to him Wanda tenses, minute enough that no one else would notice, but when he glances at her she shakes her head a bit, indicating they should stay. When he looks back up Steve’s eyes meet Vision’s for just a second before he looks away.

He’s not exactly surprised at what Wanda has to tell him when they get back to their apartment later.

“Vision recognized us.”

“Yeah, we should have realized he looks at people in a different way. Can’t be helped now. Did you get any read on him? I guess it’s encouraging that no one’s banging on the door yet.”

“I didn’t want to dig too deep. It felt like he wasn’t going to turn us in, but also not that he intended to keep it a secret.”

“Right, so. We could leave, vanish again.”

Her shoulders slump. “I’m tired of running, from everything I built over the last few years. It’s been good to be back here, but it’s not my home anymore.”

Steve understands her, and he also agrees, the division of their team is hard to swallow. “How sure are you that he isn’t going to turn us in?”

She thinks about it for a minute. “Almost fully. You remember how when the Accords were brought to table he agreed with it, but I felt it shift at the airport, there was doubt in him in the end. And I think he’s following a different sort of line of thinking now.”

“Okay. I guess we can stay put for a while. I will tell Shuri, she can warn us if their monitoring shows them coming after us, and otherwise we’ll wait and see.”

“Yeah, that works.”

It is a prospect that makes Steve feel more unsure than he has since he came to Sokovia months earlier, but there’s hope in there too. Maybe this is the another step toward closing the rift that divides their team.

 

* * *

 

“Why do you want one with fight capabilities if you’re so adamant on leading a quiet life?” Shuri asks Bucky as she refines the virtual 3D model of his new arm.

Bucky thinks she gets way too much amusement from starting conversations by going right for his weak spots, finding them with laser sharp accuracy. He would complain about it, if not aloud, then at least in his own head, but he knows she always has a point, that it’s good for him to have her make himself think about these things rather than just push them aside and pretend they’re not true. For all that he tries to not hide from himself, he’s finding that the more things come back, the better his brain heals, the easier it is to look aside.

He could say he wants to be prepared just in case, wants to make sure he’s never captured, but it’s not the truth. The truth is, if all he wanted was a quiet life, he could have stayed in the village and lived there, safe as can be. Any need for fighting in that life would have been something so extraordinary that if he were to argue he needed to prepare for it, then he should have argued that everyone regardless of their will should have combat training just in case.

He well knows the reason why he asked Shuri to make his arm combat ready isn’t that he wants to be prepared just in case. He’s just having a hard time looking at it head on.

“I always wanted to live an ordinary life,” he says. “You know, get a job, make a family, take care of those important to me, be a good person. I didn’t want anything special, didn’t have Hollywood or war hero dreams like a lot of my peers did.”

“And how’s that related to this?”

“I guess, I’m having a hard time admitting to myself it’s not like that anymore. It’s yet another proof that I’ve changed more than I ever expected I would.”

She finishes the detailing, and spins the whole model around, examining it all over. “We talked a bit with Steve, and from what he said, it seems to me you gave up a lot of things that would have led to a normal life because you were his friend. He still regrets it.”

Bucky blows out a breath. “Figures. I mean, it’s true, but I don’t regret any of it, and he shouldn’t either. I always saw that Steve was the kind of person that wasn’t built for ordinary life, and it honestly scared me, both where he might go, and also what I felt for him.”

Shuri stops working completely, even minimizes the hologram to fully concentrate on him. “Well. That’s the first time either of you have admitted that in actual words. I was starting to think it was never going to happen.”

Bucky shrugs, pushing the uneasiness away. He is safe here, no matter what his subconsciousness wants to say. “It’s hard for us to talk about how we felt, for all that it’s okay now, because it was so dangerous before.”

“And you just wanted to be normal,” she says, her eyes gentle, understanding.

“Yeah. My feelings weren’t exactly cooperating.”

“I notice you weren’t at all surprised when I suggested Steve also might have admitted but hasn’t. Did you know it was mutual back then?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Like I said, it was too dangerous. We never talked about it, but we had an understanding, that it was what it was, never to be acted upon.”

She hums, not convinced. “I can see you’d go for that, but Steve? He seems more likely to want to try regardless.”

“Well, we didn’t.”

“So now what, do you—?”

Bucky shakes his head before she gets the question out, he doesn’t want her asking, because he’s in no way ready to answer it, he doesn’t know yet what he wants to do about Steve. Doesn’t really know what he feels for Steve either.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, when it comes to all my skills,” he says instead. “I’ve realized that I could do a lot of good with them, there are a lot of ways that I can be useful. I signed up for the war back then because it was one that needed to be won, and I still feel that there are battles that need to be fought. Only then it was perfectly ordinary thing to do, and now, with me, it’s not. I’m not ordinary, when I step on that field. That’s why I’ve had a hard time admitting to myself I want to go for it.”

“I get it. And you’re doing fine.” She smiles, and Bucky can’t do anything but smile right back.

“Thank you,” he says, solemn and sincere, once again, because she has helped him so much, has gone above and beyond. He knows working with him has helped her too, in some strange way, has helped her to process things about her recent history. Even with that, he knows he’s the one in debt, only she’s not the sort of person that keeps count.

***

He knows his brain is now more healed than it ever managed to get in Bucharest. Everything is easier, the frequent episodes of migraine are gone, and accessing his memories isn’t the toil it used to be. It’s not perfect yet, he’s still missing pieces, may have lost them forever, and the distance is still there, even though that too is lessening.

His memories of his family are now solid, they’re real in his heart as they once were, and he’s even found it in himself to grieve for them, the way they must have grieved for him when they though he’d fallen in the war. When he did in fact fall in the war, because for them it doesn’t mean anything that he came back, since they never got to find out.

He’s getting on top of the battle of dealing with his memories of Hydra again, he’s putting all of it away in boxes at the back of his mind, and while he still has nightmares, those too are lessening. He’s managed to distill the information relevant to avoiding Hydra, or going after them if he so chooses, and it’s all ready for him to use. He thinks he’s about as fortified as he can be.

To his chagrin, he’s still not there when it comes to Steve. It’s not quite as bad as it used to be; his memories of Hydra strengthening led to the wartime becoming clearer too, and with that Steve during the war suddenly bloomed in his mind, there were the flashes of emotion that suddenly became real rather than just facts he knew. He can now find the traces of the bone chilling fear he felt whenever Steve was in danger, the long term confusion over his new form that wasn’t right and yet was, and the warmth of affection, familiar as always. That’s real, he feels it all now, and he’s grateful for it, but perplexed too, because it hasn’t so far transferred to other memories, or even the Steve that now resides in Sokovia. There’s still a separation he cannot breach. It gives him confidence, though, that it all will come back in time.

It was the truth when he told Shuri they never got together because it was too dangerous, but it isn’t the whole truth. Before the war it held, he clung to the normality then and never would have shaken it, but the wartime was different. His captivity changed him, and afterward he lived only from day to day, not looking ahead other than what their missions required, never in a personal way. He’d known then that all his plans and wishes had been blown away. He thinks he might have then tried to make something of his feeling toward Steve, because one might as well go for it if there’s only the moment that matters, but he never did. Nothing happened, despite the fact that he has a clear memory of looking into Steve’s eyes, seeing the feelings inside his heart reflected back, being alone and yet it not leading to anything. He doesn’t understand why.

He worries over it during the next session with Shuri, who’s figuring out how to fit the base of the new arm on him, making notes on where they need surgery, where they can use the existing structure. She doesn’t talk, aware of his preoccupation, and he feels safe in her presence to let his mind wander.

Truth is, he wants to know why they never went from friends to lovers with Steve, and there’s a relatively simple, if not easy, way for him to know. So far he has sometimes entertained the idea of talking to Steve, but has never acted on it. Yet he now thinks maybe he’s ready, maybe it’s a necessary step to take, because he isn’t getting much further by himself. He knows there’s been a definite lack of progress recently when it comes to his recovery, and that he probably needs a push.

When he’s back in his room he looks Steve up on the contact list, and stares at it for a long moment. The hesitation creeps in, but he very deliberately pushes it away and makes the call.

 

* * *

 

The first time Steve hears Bucky’s voice since he went into stasis, Bucky asks, “Why didn’t we ever act on our feelings for each other?”

It throws him completely for a loop, because he’s overwhelmed by the mere fact that Bucky actually called him, there was no time for him to prepare at all. Then the question is so unexpected that he doesn’t know where to even start, because they never talked about it, not even when they were as close as could be, and it never would have occurred to him they’d have the discussion now.

He stares at Bucky’s photo on the screen where normally a video connection would appear when calling to another Wakandan device, but Bucky must have chosen not to use it. Steve understands; just talking is almost too much, and he can’t even imagine how seeing each other would feel like. At the same time he craves it, wants to see with his own eyes that Bucky is awake and fine.

“Steve? Are you there?” Bucky asks, and Steve realizes he hasn’t yet said anything, just left Bucky hanging.

“Yeah, I’m here. You sure started with a light subject.” He tries to pull the threads of his thoughts together, figure out what to say, how to explain something he only partially understands himself. “Why do you want to know?” he asks, needing a bit more time.

He can almost hear Bucky shrugging, he knows the gesture from their childhood. “I’ve been remembering. You see, the procedure to fix my head means I need to reconnect with everything again, and I’ve been thinking of us and it just makes no sense, from what I remember, so I must be missing something.”

Steve knew the procedure would be hard, would come with consequences, but it’s different from theoretically knowing about it compared to hearing Bucky actually say it. He forces the pain back, because at least Bucky called him, it’s not hopeless, and Bucky wouldn’t ask something like this if he wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

“It’s, I don’t really know either. I mean, there was that it was illegal and would have led to trouble. I knew you wanted a normal life, and I didn’t want to hinder that.” He pauses, then has to admit, “More than I already did, anyway.”

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Bucky interjects.

“I know.” Steve rubs at his temples, the old guilt surfacing again but he pushes it back. It’s not what Bucky needs from him now. “I guess, we never talked about it so this is just my side, but I think we were pretty much on the same page about it. We knew how we felt for each other, and it was so big, that I think if we’d gone for it, we wouldn’t have been able to hide it. The only way to contain it was to keep that barrier up.”

“Yeah, that does make sense, we wouldn’t have taken a risk like that even during the war.”

“I think, if it had ever led to anything it would have happened then, definitely not before, but it didn’t.”

“Do you ever—” Bucky starts but falls into silence, and Steve thinks it’s the kind of silence that means Bucky has decided not to ask, rather than searching for words. When he speaks again, Bucky obviously chooses his words carefully, speaking slowly. “I said I needed to reconnect with things after the procedure, and it’s still ongoing. There’s still this distance, I remember things that happened, but I can’t find the meaning in them that there should be.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, things connecting for him at last. Since the start of the call he’s felt that there’s something unfamiliar about Bucky, even when he couldn’t put his finger on it, but with the word distance it comes to him. All that Bucky has said have been facts, he hasn’t given any emotion to it, and Steve now knows, even without Bucky saying it, that the distance is there between them. There are so many implications, questions, but he pushes them away, focusing on the discussion. He can think about it all later when he’s alone.

He searches for something reassuring to say, but Bucky beats him. “I’m sorry I pushed you away in Wakanda.”

It’s a frank admission that brings forth the thing Steve has been struggling with. “It’s,” he starts, almost saying,  _ it’s okay, _ but really it’s not, the pain is still with him, and Bucky would know the lie. “Accepted,” he says instead, and from the exhalation that comes over the line he knows it was the right thing to say. “We can work through it, though.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Bucky says, and Steve knows the pause in the middle isn’t hesitation because he’s not sure, but just because they both know it won’t be easy. “I thought it would make some things easier, but I’ve been told that if it makes us miserable it’s not worth it, and it’s probably true. We still need to go slow, I’m not really ready for, you know, anything really. Even this is a lot.”

The last part comes out in a rush from Bucky, but Steve feels hope rising, because he could tell it was real when Bucky said he wants them to try, the potential for a connection between them is still there. Steve can be patient, he can wait, and it’s true too, that it is a lot. “I know. We’ll just take little steps, see where they lead.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet again, the clear connection picking up the sounds of Bucky’s breathing. They spend almost five minutes like that, together despite the miles in between.

“I should go,” Bucky finally says. “I’ll call you, or you could call me, if you want.”

Steve smiles at the offer. “Talk to you soon.”

The connection breaks, and he leans back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. It’s overwhelming, everything he learned from their brief discussion. There’s happiness and hope mixed with sadness in him, the idea that Bucky’s again lost things, that yet other things have been taken from him. But Bucky came back once from Hydra trying to wipe him clean over and over, and Steve has to, he can believe Bucky will come back again.


	4. Chapter 4

“They’re here,” Wanda says and Steve immediately tenses.

“There hasn’t been any warning,” he says, noting how Wanda seems nervous but not afraid.

“It’s, I don’t think it’s anything official. I just suddenly sensed Vision because he was thinking about me, really focusing on it, too. He knows I always feel it when someone does that.”

“You think he’s trying to get your attention. You got anything else?”

“There’s Stark too. They’re at the edge of the town, in the woods, but I can’t find anyone else that appears to be with them. It’s hard to tell, though, with all the people around.” Wanda shrugs, looking at him expectantly.

“I guess we should ask them what they want.” Steve finds the phone he sent to Tony from his contacts and makes the call.

It barely rings once, which means Tony must have had it on hand. “You know, the phone you sent me was a curious case,” Tony starts without a greeting, which is good. He’s only formal when he angry, or thinks it’s going to gain him something. “I mean, it looked like a relic but the insides were a hell of a thing. Not too impressive, after all I did reverse engineer it easily to connect to my usual communicator.”

“Well, you can’t expect miracles, it took a sixteen year old all of a fifteen minutes to whip up.”

He can almost hear Tony perk up. “That’s a sixteen year old I’d definitely like to meet.”

“I think she’s seventeen now. But she runs the Wakandan science outreach, she visits the center an New York every once in a while.”

There’s a moment of silence, it’s easier to talk to Tony than Steve expected, but it’s still not completely effortless.

“Pepper and I got engaged,” Tony finally blurts out, and Steve grins.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He is too, he’s always thought they suited each other, but he also hadn’t been too surprised to find out they were on a break when he’d finally had time to think about it. If they’re engaged, he’s fairly sure that they’ve worked to solve the issues, because Pepper is far too sensible to get back to it if it’s the same old thing.

Next to him, Wanda mouths, “Vision is getting bored.” Her eyes are sparkling with amusement, and Steve is happy to see it, hopeful that this leads to good things.

“Was there a reason you guys are visiting?” Steve asks.

“Well, Vision said he saw you and Wanda here, and we thought we’d come to say hello. Took us a while to find a moment to not raise suspicion with our leaving.”

Steve wants to make a comment about how the procedures dictated in the Accords don’t seem to work, but he swallows it. They’re extending an olive branch, and he doesn’t want to undermine it, for all that he’s still appalled by a lot of things the Accords delineate.

“Stay put, we’ll come there. Try not to attract attention.”

“We’re keeping a low profile,” Tony promises, which Steve believes only if he sees it and probably not even then.

They head out, chatting for a moment with their neighbor, saying they’re going for a walk since it’s a beautiful day, as it luckily is, and stroll at a leisurely pace toward the forest. They find Tony and Vision not that far away from the city, but the clearing they’ve settled at is off the beaten path, and there’s no one around.

For a long while they just stand, looking at each other, separated by a few paces. It’s not distrust exactly, they all know they’re there as friends, but there is the rift between them, and the bridges across it are still flimsy. Yet, the fact they’re here at all is a big step forward, an essential one, and Steve wants to believe they’ll make it, that there will be a way to make everything better.

Finally Vision is the one to speak. “I thought, with all the information I had at hand, that I knew people, and I also thought I was something different. And I’ve had to learn that I didn’t truly understand, and with that, I didn’t understand myself either. Reasons and consequences are more varied than calculations and statistics suggest, no matter how sophisticated they are. I only now know why a well knitted group is so much stronger than the individuals simply summed together.”

They somehow end up all hugging each other, and Steve can’t really explain how it happens, because none of them tend to be comfortable with touching. It feels right too, it doesn’t mend the lingering hurts but it’s a promise that they’ll all try to do better going forward.

They talk as well, there are apologies and explanations, and just generally telling each other of their lives. Steve promises to forward the greetings to the rest of their team, and they sort out how to contact each other. It’s not too long a meeting, Tony and Vision need to get back before questions are raised, and they soon say goodbyes and promise to keep in touch.

When they head back, Steve and Wanda are deep in thought, and Steve knows that the day has changed the direction of their lives, that there are new considerations to be made now, and maybe their so far fairly static life in Sokovia is coming toward an end. As Wanda told him earlier, this is no longer her home, and there will be other places to go to.

Back at the apartment they retire to their rooms, both still sorting things for themselves. Steve’s thoughts are finally interrupted by a call from Bucky, and he picks up, intent on telling him the news.

***

It only takes a few days before the shift happens. Wanda has been quiet, thoughtful, but Steve hasn’t prodded. He knows she needs space to sort out her wants, and he knows too that she’ll come to him if she needs help. He’s content to wait; he came to Sokovia to stay with her, and there’s nowhere he needs to be urgently, so there’s no pressure on him while she decides what she wants to do. He knows it’ll most likely mean leaving, because perhaps unconsciously she’s already started to say goodbyes to all her favorite places, revisiting and making memories.

Steve waits, and he tries to make it as passive a mindset as he can to not put even unconscious pressure on her. He thinks this is a point where they will head down different paths, and he knows he’ll miss her, for all that they’re sure to stay in contact. The months spent living with her have been surprisingly easy despite the troubles he’s been wrestling with, her presence has helped, and he hopes he’s done the same for her. He doesn’t yet know where his road will lead, he’ll decide the direction when he sets out.

That night Wanda tells him she wants to try and take a leap, that Vision is in Edinburgh, and that she’ll see what can come of it.

 

* * *

 

Bucky stares at the arm resting on the lab table. He can’t really think of it as his arm, not yet, not while it’s separate from him. It looks like a machine there, albeit sleek and graceful even, different from the previous arm which he had come to think of his even when it was initially crafted onto him without his will. It had become part of him despite all the pain it carried, and he wonders how long it will take before the new one will feel less alien.

It’s finished, all necessary tests have been conducted, and they can do the surgery to attach it any time now. They will too, as soon as Bucky gives the go, which he hasn’t yet. He doesn’t know yet when he will do so, even though Shuri keeps rolling her eyes at him, in a very obvious way too, just to underline that she thinks he’s being an idiot. It’s true too, because the arm is what he wants, it’ll enable him to do what he needs to do, but he keeps hesitating. She hasn’t said anything, though, because she obviously understands a thing or two about processing things.

It’s getting automatic now to go through the motions to contact Steve. The phone on the other end rings for longer than usual, and when Steve answers there’s an extensive cacophony in the background.

“Where are you?” Bucky asks, a bit confused.

“St Pancras International station.”

“That’s in London, right? What are you doing there?”

“On my way back to the continent. Took a trip to Edinburgh with Wanda, she’s going to stay there with Vision.”

“Oh.” Bucky chews at his lip. “Are you going back to Sokovia?”

“No. I liked it there, but there’s time for everything. I thought I might go see Nat and Sam, unless there’s something else you think I should do.”

Bucky can hear the underlying promise clear as anything; Steve would come in a heartbeat if he asked. He’s not going to, he’s not ready for it, and Steve accepts it with all the grace in the world, even though Bucky knows he wishes it could be different. Not that he’d ever say so, Steve is still infuriatingly consistent at putting other people’s needs in front of his own without complaint, or even trying for a compromise. It annoys Bucky, but he’s also pathetically glad at not having to fight about it.

“I think beach would do you good,” he says, and wonders if Steve hears the apology in the statement.

“How’s it going with you?” Steve asks, directing the discussion elsewhere, which is a clear tell of his struggle.

“It goes. Shuri finished the arm.”

“But you haven’t had the surgery yet.” It’s not a question, and yet again it amazes Bucky how Steve knows him so well even now.

“I will, soon.”

“Take your time. It’s better when it’s not forced.”

“But it’s what I want, it’s just, I don’t even know where this hesitation comes from.”

“Yeah. I’m trying to figure out where I’m going from here too. There are things I want to do, I just don’t know yet how to make it work.”

Bucky is curious about the statement, but he also knows that he shouldn’t ask. If Steve were ready to talk about it he would do so unprompted, but it has never helped to prod him about something he is still processing, and Bucky suspects it’s the same now as it was in their youth.

“As long as it’s not just running headlong into danger.”

“It’s not, I promise. I know the way I used to live didn’t work for me on long term. That’s why it was so easy to leave the shield. I’m going to try a new way now.”

“As soon as you figure out what it is.” I comes out teasing, just barely, because Bucky feels like his throat is constricting at the memory of Steve dropping the shield, of both of the times he did so. Someone fished it out of the Potomac, and Bucky can’t help but wonder if it’ll find its way to Steve again. He hasn’t said anything about it, even though Bucky knows they’re definitely patching things up with Stark.

“Soon as. I have to go, the train is ready.”

“Talk to you soon,” Bucky says, his customary goodbye these days.

***

“Why aren’t you on the beach yet?” Bucky greets Steve three days later, when the videofeed reveals him to be sitting by the window of a small room, outside of it only pouring rain and the rooftop of the opposing building. He shifts, trying to find the most comfortable position on the bed that won’t put pressure on his shoulder.

“How did the surgery go?” Steve asks instead of answering.

“Fine, obviously. They know their medicine, and this was a fairly basic thing, even with the nerve connections.”

“I knew that, it’s not what I meant,” Steve says gently. Bucky knows, Steve is asking if he was comfortable with it, because he too had been unsure of whether having the procedure done would hit his brain wrong, and Steve had known it.

“It was okay. Shuri explained to me quantum mechanics while they worked to distract me. It was fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Steve’s smile is so bright and warm Bucky wants to both wrap himself in it and shirk away.

“Stop stalling. Why are you there in the rain?”

“I like Paris, decided to stay a few days. Despite the smell.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, I remember that, you’d think the so called civilized people knew not to piss on the streets. I was probably glad to have that scrubbed off my head.”

There’s a pause, during which Bucky realizes he actually joked about the mindwipes, and wonders if it’ll hit Steve wrong and they end up moping, which he could do without. There’s a snort then from the other end, and when he dares to look at the screen again Steve is trying and failing not to laugh. Bucky can’t hold it back either, and maybe it’s quite a bit more relief than amusement, but it’s laughter.

He thinks he hasn’t properly laughed since the night before the train, but here he is. Maybe one day soon he’ll laugh and it’ll be all happiness.

They don’t really talk that much that day, they just spend time together. Bucky stays in bed, keeping the pressure off his left side to allow his shoulder to heal. It’s not the whole arm yet that’s attached, only the base and the bits necessary to determine the neural connection works properly. It’ll help with the healing to keep the weight as little as possible during the early phases. Shuri will reassemble the arm when the connection is solid enough, apparently only after a few days with Wakandan medicine and Bucky’s own accelerated healing. The painkillers given him mean he’s comfortably drowsy, happy to not do anything other than just look at Steve on the feed. He’s drawing at the little desk by the window, his head bent and the frown of concentration familiar from decades back.

They’ve slowly been learning how to talk to each other again, about important things as well as mundane, but this is almost more significant, just being together, even if it’s over miles, getting used to it again. The distance hasn’t fully gone away, there are still memories that don’t quite connect for Bucky, but at least it’s not awkward like this, just being together without any other reason than wanting to, like it would have been the first time Bucky called Steve from Wakanda.

When he’s done, Steve tilts the camera to show him a pencil drawing of a Parisian street in rain, people walking by under their umbrellas. Bucky suddenly remembers that when he was in the art school Steve did once say that if he could have an impossible wish fulfilled, he’d want to go and draw and paint in Paris. At least that has come true.

 

* * *

 

The former SHIELD safehouse Natasha and Sam have settled at is on an atoll that’s part of French Polynesia, at the edge of a small community that has grown into a vacation spot. On the surface it doesn’t look too different from the other bigger houses on the island, and there are enough foreigners that they don’t stand out too much. Steve enjoys the warm weather after leaving Europe in the late fall, and he immediately finds himself relaxing. It’s a nice spot, they have their own beach in a somewhat sheltered cove, and take turns to do grocery runs. There’s a landing pad for the quinjet, and a covering rigged of light metal work and vegetation that can be pulled over it. All in all, it’s a pretty good place to lay low, since only a very selected group of people ever knew about it, many of them gone now, and so Natasha has the run of the place.

For all that they call it lounging on the beach, it’s obvious Nat and Sam haven’t been idle. Steve happily takes part in their regular sparring sessions, because it wasn’t possible to train on the level that would really matter to him while living in a small apartment in the middle of a town in Sokovia, and he has missed the exercise. They have a routine, the mornings are allocated for training, because the weather is cool enough they don’t risk overheating, and the rest of the day is spent with chores and relaxing. 

Steve has been drawing more, for himself rather than working on the projects suitable for the kids. Since he was found and until he arrived to Sokovia with Wanda he didn’t touch pencils and paint brushes almost at all, he maybe sometimes doodled at the edges of reports. Now his sketchbook is filling up, and he’s starting to get to a point where everything doesn’t look hopelessly awkward.

Sam’s reaction on the first day when he brought out his sketchbook was, “Holy fuck, you actually have a non-work related hobby now,” which probably underlines the state of his life, or the lack thereof, before.

There is the gentle ribbing, but his friends are supportive too, and they take a few hours every day to just relax with fruity drinks, Steve drawing, Natasha making a complicated quilt by hand, and Sam reading aloud, sometimes scientific articles, sometimes stories. It’s soothing, and Steve relishes those hours, even though he knows he couldn’t do it all the time. He needs something more active as well.

***

It takes him two weeks before he puts words to the thought that has been forming in his mind ever since he left Sokovia. It’s wonderful and relaxing on the island, and he’s glad to see with his own eyes that Nat and Sam are happy rather than just to hear them tell him, but there’s a whole world out there. After he’s decided he’s ready to talk he wrestles a few more days with whether he should just keep quiet, not tell them and let them lead the careless life for as long as the world allows. In the end he chooses to talk about his intentions, because they’re his friends and deserve to make their own choices rather than hear about things afterward. Especially since they’re the ones he has been through the most with after he woke up, and he knows them, knows what kind of a world they want to live in.

“I’m thinking of starting to hunt down Hydra again,” Steve says one evening when they’re taking a walk during the sunset at the water’s edge.

“Well, I was getting bored with lazing about,” Sam says.

Natasha adds, “I’m pretty sure Tony would help us with the intel. When I talked to him last time he was definitely getting frustrated with the inaction forced on them.”

That’s it, only a few words and they’ve decided their course on the most fundamental level. They will need to figure out the details and gather information, but the shift has happened already, they’re all looking toward the same goal.

***

Over the next few weeks they set up all the details, their information gathering and communication networks take shape, they make sure they have all the supplies they need, and shift their training back toward fight preparation rather than the play it has been. They still take a few hours every day for relaxation, all of them conscious of not wanting to drive themselves too hard, intent on keeping in touch with other things they want out of life. They’re seeking out the balance together, helping and supporting each other.

It’s funny, Steve thinks, that ever since Bucky went into stasis he has managed to find ways to be content, unlike he did during the first four years since he was brought back from the ice. He knows well enough it happens now because he’s actively looking for it, actively aiming to make his life something he’s happy with, rather than pining after things he can’t, or is at least very unlikely to reach.

He was content when he was chatting with Shuri while she worked in her lab. He was content in Sokovia, living with Wanda and teaching the kids art. He’s content here and now with Sam and Natasha, both during their lazy hours and when they’re working, their cooperation seamless as it ever has been.

He’s content, but he knows there’s a small but crucial difference between being content and being happy, and he also knows that his sense of contentment is dependent on the situation, not so much on himself. There’s still work for him to do, but he’s getting along.

He’s contemplating on his life one morning after they’ve done their workout and showered. It’s just him and Nat, since it’s Sam’s turn to do the grocery run. She’s been tapping away on her computer, and he has been mostly staring into the horizon, deep in thought. He’s roused from the reverie by her voice.

“You’re not going to stay with us in between the missions.”

It’s not a question, because of course she knows already, even though Steve has only really come to the conclusion himself. When he arrived with the budding knowledge that he wanted to go after Hydra, he hadn’t thought any further about what his life would be like. He’s now decided he should find a place that is his, one that he’ll choose because it feels right, not because someone else is there. Also, for all that he loves Sam and Nat, he doesn’t think staying would be a good idea, because he would be too comfortable. He’d be leaning on them, and he needs to find the contentment in himself, even when he has his circle of friends. It’s the only road he can see that can lead to true happiness.

“I don’t think this much sun will agree with me on long term,” he says, and she smiles and takes his hand. They sit together gazing at the horizon until Sam comes back.

***

“I can punch through a brick wall now,” Bucky says while moving his new arm near the camera so that Steve can see the details. 

He’s seen the schematics, and the 3D-rendering was astonishingly lifelike, but the real thing on the feed is different, and Steve can barely imagine what it’ll be like to really see it with his own eyes. What it would be like to touch it. He pushes the thought away, it’s not what either of them needs.

“But why would you want to?” he asks instead.

Bucky moves the camera so that he’s in view again, and shrugs. “Might come handy. I mean, I could punch through a brick wall with the old one too, and I’m pretty sure I even did at one time, but it would have been hell on my shoulder. This one, not so much.”

“No, I meant, do you think you’ll be in a situation where you’ll need that kind of ability?” Steve clarifies.

“I’ve got all these skills, I should use them to make the world better since I already did it for worse.”

Steve wants to argue, he wants to remind Bucky again how it wasn’t his fault, but he lets go when Bucky’s faint exasperation is clear when he opens his mouth to say any of it. Bucky knows all of what Steve would say, and it wouldn’t be anything new.

“I just want to be sure you’re doing what you want, not what you think you should do. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I get it, but the overlap is pretty large in my case. You said it too, you want to go after Hydra because they don’t belong in the world you want to live in, and that you want to do what you can for it. It’s like that for me too. I can do more than most people can on that front, and that’s why I’ve made sure I’m capable when I figure out where I need to go.”

Steve looks at Bucky for several long second before nodding. He gets it, they’re not that different at all, and if Bucky does it for himself, then Steve isn’t going to stop him.

They chat for a few more minutes before disconnecting, and Steve thinks again how weird it still is, after all these months to be just a bit wrong footed with Bucky. It’s gotten easier, the more they talk the more comfortable they are with each other, but their connection hasn’t fully recovered. Steve doesn’t know what he can do to make it better, other than try to make sure he himself is moving in the right direction, and to be there for Bucky.

There are still questions between them that he doesn’t dare to ask. There’s the distance Bucky has talked about, and Steve doesn’t ask about it, not when he can tell it’s still there, albeit not whether it’s lessening. There are the words Bucky said before he went into stasis, words that carried more meaning than Steve heard. He wants to know why Bucky said them, why Bucky pushed them apart, but he again doesn’t ask, doesn’t know if he’s ready to know, nor if Bucky is ready to tell. They will need to sort thought these issues if they are to mend their relationship, but for now they’re not there yet.

 

* * *

 

Bucky has spent the last few weeks getting used to his new arm. The interface healed beautifully, and now that it’s settled in place, he keeps marveling how seamlessly it works with the rest of his body. His old arm worked too, but it had come with relentless training, getting his mind adjusted to how it responded, because it wasn’t really the same as a natural arm. This time, it only takes him moments before he’s picking things up and adjusting for how hard he can squeeze them. Shuri has told him it’s probably a good thing he spent several months without his old arm, since his brain had time to forget the odd ways it needed to guide the old prosthetic, and so the process of learning the new one is easier.

It’s better on his back and shoulder too. It’s still not completely natural, especially since the reinforcements in his bones are Zola’s work, with Bucky electing to not have the major surgery that replacing them would have required. Shuri told him they could do better, but there are no major issues with them, especially now that the new arm is lighter, and he decided not to risk the additional stress.

The prosthetic is still heavier than his right arm, if only by little, and what takes most of time is relearning how to balance himself, going from no arm to heavier than normal but not quite as heavy as he used to have. Three weeks in he’s comfortable as ever, and Shuri has run all the tests she needs, proclaiming the arm perfectly functional and the risk of rejection non-existent.

He celebrates it by floating in the pool, letting the water take the weight and work on his muscles until he’s pruning. He even manages to let his mind float the same as his body, not thinking of anything particular. It doesn’t last, because as soon as he’s dressed again the consciousness of how this is another fork on his path returns, that this is yet another moment to decide where he wants to go to. He’s come to it through healing, through acknowledging that the quiet life really isn’t something he aims for, not when he’s still conscious of how much good he could do. Now that he has the arm he no longer has a reason to push the decision until later.

He also needs to decide what to do with Steve, even though he thinks he’s already made that choice, he’s only now acknowledging it. It’s the only choice he’s ever had when it comes to Steve, and it probably was useless to try and change things. He told himself it would be better for Steve to not have to go through the potential heartbreak of losing him again, but really he was just running. He knows too, from how his own heart at times feels like it’s barely holding on, that the slow grind of time can be just as devastating as a blow, and it means not even having the happiness at first. He knows too, that Steve is the kind of person who would always choose the happiness combined with the risk over safety.

The other problem he had, and still has, is that it feels almost impossible to be with Steve, that looking at him is like looking into the sun. But even that is an excuse, because it’s nothing new. There have been moments like it all through their lives, moments when Bucky was conscious of the blaze in Steve and the terrifying beauty of it. He’s fairly sure that the only reason it now feels so unbearable is because he’s afraid.

He looks up to the sky, into the deep blue right above, the first stars coming into view now that the sun is just setting. He doesn’t want to be afraid any more, not the way he has been, not the way people wanted him to be.

***

“I didn’t want to go back to Steve,” he says to Shuri the next morning. He’s wandered into the lab as is his habit, even though there’s no purpose for it anymore, no need for any tests.

She looks at him, head tilted in consideration. “I believe you didn’t think you deserved to, but not that you didn’t want to. Not deep down. Also, I noticed the past tense.”

“You’re right, I suppose. I didn’t want to acknowledge it to myself, but the end result was the same.”

“Not really, though, because if you truly hadn’t wanted to, things would have gone differently. You wouldn’t be on this path you’re now setting out on.”

“You’re too perceptive for your own good,” Bucky says but he grins at her too.

He doesn’t thank her, because he’s done it already so many times that she threatened to shut him up with his own left hand if he did anymore. He thinks she’s embarrassed to be thanked so often, because it wasn’t an insurmountable problem for her. For him, it was only everything.

***

Since he’s decided to leave, it doesn’t take him long to have everything he needs gathered together. He still has access to the Hydra funds he squirreled away during his escape for a rainy day, and while it’s actually a pretty good day, not to mention a month and a year, he’s still happy to have it easier to get around. Okoye flies them to Tangier, mostly because she thinks Shuri shouldn’t go alone, even when she definitely could do it, and Bucky’s pretty sure she can’t decide whether to be annoyed or happy. On one hand, she’s clearly glad to get outsiders out of Wakanda, but she’s clearly peeved to be giving him a ride. Shuri obviously finds it hilarious, but Bucky manages not to show amusement, mostly because he admires her a lot.

When they’ve landed outside the city Shuri hugs him, and Bucky squeezes her and isn’t even surprised to find himself tearing up. It’s not just the triggers and the arm she helped him with, he’s doing much better in general now, and he knows there’s probably no one else on Earth that could have helped him as completely. There’s still a long way for him to go, but he knows the journey would be much harder if it weren’t for her. There’s also the simple fact that she became almost a family to him when he didn’t have one, and there’s now a bond between them that can’t be severed.

He promises to stay in contact, hops off the plane, and heads toward the city.

He walks straight for the ferry, managing to catch the last one of the day leaving for Spain, finds a quiet corner for himself, and calls Steve. As he waits for Steve to pick up he idly wonders where he is; Steve left the island that Sam and Natasha are staying at a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been getting around Europe. He was in Krakow the last time he called Bucky.

There’s a sound of wind at the background when Steve picks up, and he thinks Steve sounds content when he greets him. 

“I’m in Ålesund, Norway,” Steve tells him. “It’s, I can’t describe it, beautiful beyond belief. There are so many paintings here, just waiting to be brought to life.”

“So you’re staying?”

“For a while at least. Maybe longer, it feels, I don’t know, right for me. In a way most places don’t.”

Bucky smiles, glad to hear the enthusiasm in Steve’s voice. “You’ll probably fit right in, being tall and blond.”

“How are you, everything okay?” Steve asks, laughing.

“Yeah. I’m on my way to Spain.”

There’s a pause at the other end, Steve clearly taking in the news. “Why Spain?”

“Logical step onward from Tangier, and that’s where they dropped me.” Bucky draws a breath, and says in a hurry, so that he gets it out. “I’ll come to you. It might take me a while, but I’ll find you.”

“I’ll keep you posted on where I am,” Steve says, his voice husky.

Bucky swallows, and just listens to the sounds of wind and sea from the other end. It must be a winter storm, and Steve should probably go inside, but Bucky understands that sometimes one needs to face the turmoil head on.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve has a little house now, for the first time in his life. He could have afforded one even earlier, but in D.C. and Sokovia it was more practical to live in an apartment, and between D.C. and the Accords he lived first in the Tower and later at the compound. He’s mostly followed the path of least resistance rather than going for what he really would want, which he now realizes is yet another symptom of how he hasn’t actually been living.

Fairly soon after he arrived he decided he was going to stay in Ålesund, at least for the time being. He loves how the city stretches over several islands, the colorful buildings coming to the edge of the water, the steep hills all around, the sea that was almost black with ice floes here and there on the day he arrived. He can’t wait for the spring, the smell of it is already in the air, and he knows it must all be incredibly beautiful in the height of summer when the hills are green and the sea is blue under the white fluffy clouds.

Even here he could have found himself an apartment, it would have been easier, but it suddenly felt wrong, and so he went looking for a house. He found one at the end of a lane looking over the sea on the island of Hessa, past the city center coming from the mainland. The house is just the right size for him and his hopes; there are two bedrooms, one of which he’s made into a studio by virtue of leaving all his art supplies there, even though it’s not really an ideal space when it comes to light. The kitchen is cozy, there’s a fireplace in the living room, and the garden is sheltered enough that there’s a little bit of privacy even though the neighbors are close.

For the first few days it feels odd to have a whole building, small as it is, for himself, because he never really thought he’d live in a house. It never was something he could dream of when he was a poor boy and man in Brooklyn. Before the war the most he really hoped for was to be able to afford at least a bit nicer apartment, one with his own bathroom rather than a communal one.

After he found himself in the future, sometimes people asked him how he’d imagined his life to pan out before he went down with the Valkyrie, if it was the traditional dream of a nice house and white picket fence. He never knew how to explain that before the war he’d been very aware he’d be lucky if he’d made it to thirty, and during the war they’d mostly aspired to live until the next week. There had been good days, when he had dared to look forward, but even then it wasn’t a dream of suburban life for him. He hadn’t had much of a concept of living like that, since the boom of suburbs happened only after the war, and he’d fit the dreams he had into what he knew. When he’d dared to think of it, there had been a kind of duality of it, he always remembered there was a future he was forbidden to have, and when he’d tentatively dreamed, it had abstractly included Peggy, but he’d mostly imagined they’d continue to work together. He doesn’t remember if he had dreams for a private life, a fact which he now thinks is extremely sad.

Now he has a house, albeit not a picket fence, and he’s fairly sure that if he’s ever going to have a family it won’t be the standard two kids and a dog. Instead, he’s actually made friends with a cat that he found crouched on his porch one day, and when he asked his neighbors they said she was probably a stray. He has been feeding her since then, she lets him pet her on occasion, and on one particularly cold day she even came inside, albeit demanded to be let out after only a few hours. She seems healthy enough, though, and Steve figures they have time to get better acquainted.

No one really looks at him twice. He still has the disguise on, and he does fit in among the people well enough that it’s only when it turns out he doesn’t really speak Norwegian that people realize he’s not local. He is learning the language, the neighbors are friendly and chatty, and have accepted his explanation that he’s an independently wealthy artist looking for inspiration without a question. He’s fairly sure he got a lot of brownie points for the fact he’s so obviously enamored by their city. All of it is true after all; he has started to paint again, and he enjoys it immensely now that he can get all the good supplies without having to wonder if he’s going to eat by the end of the month.

He does disappear every once in a while, and his neighbors think he’s just taking trips to find things to paint, but in truth they have taken out three small Hydra bases with Natasha and Sam. They do most of their prepping remotely, and Tony has started to discreetly helping them with intelligence and once even as tech support. Hence each trip has only taken a few days, the others picking him up with the quinjet from outside the city.

So far it all works, Steve feels like he has a purpose, that he’s doing something instead of just drifting, but now he lives for himself too. He’s finally learning again how to immerse himself into his art, and he can almost physically feel it nourishing his soul. He’s also gone to the community center and talked about volunteering to give art classes to children. He liked it in Sokovia, and would like to do it again, even though he thinks he’ll keep the amount down, maybe just to once a week, so he can fit the missions and his own art in between. He has made friends, he sort of has a cat, and as spring starts to arrive he realizes he is content in the life he’s made for himself, and now it’s not dependent on others.

Contentment is still not happiness, but now he thinks he even has an inkling of that. He doesn’t dare to hope too much, they haven’t talked about what will happen when Bucky arrives, and he doesn’t want to expect things Bucky isn’t ready for or maybe not even interested in, but at least he’s promised to come. It’s so much more than Steve dared to hope for in the previous summer when he left Wakanda to get his friends from the Raft.

He can’t help but be conscious of the fact there are much less obstacles to them being together nowadays, so much so that if they were so inclined, they could even get married. There lives a couple of married women one house over from Steve’s, and whenever he passes he has to smile at the little rainbow flag they have above their door along with the small Norwegian flag. He’s glad that people can now be openly proud of it, proud of themselves.

He also can’t help but think back to the very first conversation they had with Bucky after he left Wakanda, the one in which Bucky asked why they never acted on their feelings. He wonders if it means Bucky would want to this time, he has spent hours pondering on it, but there’s no certainty since they haven’t talked about the topic since then. Of course, there’s still the question of what their feelings currently are. Steve still loves Bucky, it hasn’t changed on the fundamental level, and by now he thinks it’s unlikely to ever be any different, but he’s less sure of Bucky. After all his mind has been written over so many times, and they are different people compared to who they were during the war. There are no certainties, so all he can do is wait.

Wait he does, and somehow it’s not hard, even though he doesn’t have any kind of a timeline for Bucky’s arrival. Bucky has been traveling a meandering route across Europe, riding mostly on trains and apparently walking a fair bit too. Steve only knows where he is if he mentions it, or if there’s some kind of a familiar landmark in the photos he sometimes sends. The closest he so far has been was in Denmark, but after that he headed for Poland and Lithuania, and so Steve can’t really predict his progress.

He understands it’s a process for Bucky, he rebuilt a part of himself in Wakanda surrounded by a community, and now he’s on the road alone. He needs the solitude as well, the same way Steve needed to learn to find stability on his own. He will come when he’s ready, and even if the route on map goes every which way, Steve still knows that every step Bucky takes is toward their reunion, and whatever might happen after that.

He waits, and he paints, and he lives his life. Days pass, and the spring comes finally along with flowers and the sun shining from clear blue sky.

 

* * *

It’s a perfect spring day when Bucky arrives to Ålesund. He took the train to Ändalsnes where the railway ends, and walked the rest of the way. It was nearly seventy miles on foot, and took him overnight, so he’s tired when he first sees the city. It’s a content sort of tiredness, though, because he’s coming to his destination, rather than at an intermediate resting point. Of course, he doesn’t know what the life with Steve will be like, there’s still a possibility of it not working out after all, slim as he believes that is, but he has his hopes.

The city is cheerful under the sun, seamlessly married with the sea among the steep hills, and Bucky immediately understands why Steve decided to stay. It feels right, it radiates peace even though there are a lot of people gathered around, and he immediately knows he’ll like it too. He’s seen a lot of Steve’s photos and some sketches of it, but it’s only now that he’s here that he really understands. 

He takes in the sights as he walks through the city toward the island of Hessa. He can see a lot of single family houses there, but the most obvious feature is a fairly tall and steep hill that dominates the island. He doesn’t know exactly where on the island Steve lives, and he could call for directions, but instead he heads toward the hill and starts to climb.

It’s fairly windy and not too warm at the top, but the view is gorgeous, both of the city and out toward the ocean. He takes it all in for a moment, looking around. There are a few other people up on top, not that many, and his attention immediately zeroes onto one of them, a man sitting on a rock, concentrating on his drawing. It’s a hell of a coincidence, but it actually doesn’t surprise Bucky, because sometimes it really feels like the universe keeps herding them toward each other.

He gets a bit closer before Steve looks up, right at him, and it’s funny to see him, because he’s wearing the disguise from Shuri, and the face he’s wearing is odd, even though the rest of him is same as ever. It must be a mutual feeling, since Bucky too is covering his identity the same way. Steve has a sweater with a traditional pattern under his coat, he’s let his hair and beard grow, and he seems to be at peace with himself, which was missing when they last saw each other in person in Wakanda. Bucky doesn’t think, doesn’t even stop, he just walks right to Steve, right into his open arms, and squeezes him tight. They stay like that for a long moment, Bucky lets his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder, and when Steve tips his head so that their temples rest together he really feels like he’s come home.

***

Bucky keeps waiting for things to get awkward between the two of them. It seems unavoidable considering the way they parted, how long they’ve been apart, how much they’ve changed in the meantime, and the lingering distance in his head. Yet it never happens, it’s easy and natural as it ever has been that first day.

When they finally manage to let go of each other they start back down the hill. Bucky occasionally glances at Steve, but mostly he looks at the surroundings, because Steve barely looks at anything but him, and it’s tough to meet his eyes, the intensity in them. Even his avoidance doesn’t make it weird, Steve seems to understand it, or that’s how Bucky interprets the gentle smiles Steve keeps flashing at him. There’s a lot to look at, Steve has sent him photos, but it’s different seeing it all for real. He immediately recognizes Steve’s street and the neighboring houses when they turn the corner. There are two women out in the yard of one of the houses, and they call out a greeting at Steve, who stops for a moment to exchange pleasantries.

On the way they agreed to introduce him as James, because it’s something Steve will remember to call him by, and it’s common enough a name to be neutral. The women, Agnes and Marit, grin at the both of them, and Bucky’s pretty sure they assume more than the introduction of him as Steve’s friend says. They have a small rainbow flag above their door, and Bucky thinks it’ll take a while for him to get used to the idea that people assuming things about them doesn’t mean danger.

He talks a little bit Swedish with them; he only remembered knowing the language when Steve spoke some of Norwegian with the women and he understood since the languages are so similar. He’s rusty, but he remembers enough to be able to get by, and make himself understood. To the women’s inquiry he says he’s had a globetrotting past and that he learned due to a job in Sweden, which is true enough.

Steve’s house is fairly small but charming, and somehow it looks more like a home than any place Bucky has seen since he left for war, even his little house in the village never really got the status for all that he enjoyed his time there since he knew his stay was temporary. There is a cluster of daffodils by the porch, and the cat that Steve still hasn’t named is sitting on the step washing her face. She greets Steve with a prrt sound, looks at Bucky with obvious suspicion before pointedly ignoring him, and staying put when they go in.

He takes a cursory tour around the house, but he’s suddenly exhausted, which Steve of course notices. They end up having an early dinner during which Bucky barely stays awake, and afterward Steve gently steers him to the bathroom. He takes a warm shower which makes him even more drowsy, and when he comes out in his pajamas, Steve too has changed and is waiting for him.

It occurs to Bucky then that there’s only one bed, and he’s about to offer to sleep on the couch, except Steve takes his hand and pulls him along to the bedroom where he turns the covers down and looks at Bucky, brows raised. Bucky hesitates only for a moment before deciding to do exactly what he wants, what they both want, and he climbs in, gesturing Steve to come along.

“It’s probably too early for you,” he says, because it’s barely seven.

“I came back from the mission just day before yesterday, remember? I’m still paying back for that.” Steve smiles and shifts a bit closer, letting his eyes close and giving Bucky a moment to just look at him.

He too is ready to sleep, so he takes only a few minutes to note all the minute changes in Steve he can see. He looks calm and peaceful, and Bucky is warmed to the core by it.

They’re lying close to each other, their knees almost knocking together, pillows right next to one another. It’s not strange at all for them, they used to sleep in the same bed a lot of times, for warmth or because there was no space. For all that the world is different now, so much so that their relationship has a lot of new potential, for now Bucky grasps at the familiar comfort, and drifts easily into sleep.

***

He wakes up in the morning much as he fell asleep, still turned toward Steve who’s already awake but hasn’t moved. They didn’t really talk the previous afternoon, but they will have to now, they can’t just keep living around each other with all the questions between them. For one, Bucky should probably come clean about the fact that the distance between them is still there, although now that he’s thinking of it, it doesn’t feel the same it used to. It can’t, since Steve is right there in front of him, real and solid, eyes dark in the dimness of the bedroom, the beard an addition Bucky hasn’t gotten used to yet. He’s still not really connected to all the memories he has, but he thinks it’s coming back, the understanding, and he again thinks that maybe he should have come to Steve earlier. Maybe not, since he viscerally feels he wasn’t ready until now.

He does tell Steve all of it, halting, sometimes searching for words. Steve stays quiet, intent at listening, but he doesn’t seem distressed by it. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not, is it because Steve has faith it’ll get better or is it because it doesn’t matter as much to him anymore. Although, he thinks if it didn’t matter, Steve probably wouldn’t have stayed in bed just staring at him through the morning hours.

“I think, let’s just live and learn to be together again,” Steve says when Bucky falls quiet. “We have time now.”

They make breakfast together when they finally get up. Steve’s kitchen, same as the rest of his house, isn’t big at all, but they move around each other without bumping together, as seamlessly efficient as they were in Siberia. Bucky is almost giddy with it, because it feels right to be here with Steve, and he wants to scold himself for almost denying the both of them of this, but decides to do so later, he’ll just enjoy it for now.

He notices Steve stealing glances of him, and when he points it out, Steve says, “It’s just good to see you smile.”

He realizes then that he is indeed smiling, has been for the whole morning, and it’s remarkable because he well knows he doesn’t much do so these days. Even when he’s happy he tends toward calm and neutral rather than spontaneously smiling. It is a good start for the day.

***

They fall into a routine soon. It’s mostly the mundane things of life for Bucky, and he enjoys it here too, much like he did in the village in Wakanda. It’s a different culture here, but there is a little community among their neighbors, and he likes the closeness. Steve does too, he says it’s different from his experience of living in D.C. or New York in the recent years, more like the past.

Steve paints a lot, doing more and more of it outside as the weather gets better, although there are a lot of partially rainy days. Bucky spends much of his time in the garden, weeding it and putting it in order, and helping their neighbors with theirs. At first he covers his arm, it’s easy since he needs work gloves anyway if he’s hauling things, but it finally comes out he has a prosthetic. Luckily it’s enough of an explanation that he got into an experimental program of super advanced prosthetics for veterans, which is true enough, and believable since such projects have gotten publicity in recent years.

When he’s not in the garden, he mostly reads. There is a thriving library in the city with books not only in Norwegian, but a fair selection of them in English too, and he visits it weekly and always comes back with a large haul. Sometimes he even reads aloud to Steve while he’s painting.

He’s enjoying being idle now that there’s no goal for it like in Wakanda, although he’ll want to find something to do later on. He knows he’ll go on missions with Steve’s team, soon as one comes up, but he needs something else too. For now, he’s not in too much of a hurry find what it should be.

They talk a lot, often of unimportant things, just to hear each other’s voices, but sometimes it’s topics that bear the weight of the world. Bucky thinks that they talk more than they ever used to, that they now say things aloud that they would have assumed the other to just understand before. He likes it, likes the clarity it brings. They talk of memories, even dark ones, and as Bucky had suspected, it is sometimes difficult to dredge up the ugliest memories he has now in Steve’s presence, to bring them in contact with the best thing in his life. Steve listens to it all, lets him air it out, and despite the fact he often looks devastated by them, it never feels like Bucky should stop. Before he sometimes felt he should hold things from Steve to protect him, but now that he knows he can be open and honest about everything, their relationship feels stronger for it. In return Steve tells him of anger and despair, of boundless apathy, all those things he’s felt, the way he didn’t know where he was going with his life for the first couple of years since he was found.

They talk of happier things too, of moments that for them have been transcending, but also of every day happiness, the little things that have brightened their days. Bit by bit, they grow close again, maybe even closer than they ever were, simply because now they dare to cross even the final barriers.

Bucky’s memories get more and more solid every day he spends with Steve, and there is a day when he finally can say the distance is gone. There are still gaps in his memories, always will be, but it doesn’t seem like he’s missing anything significant, and it’s good enough for him. They slot together again, and Bucky finally fully understands the way Steve is important to him, even if he couldn’t articulate the reason in words.

***

Bucky still doesn’t know if he’s in love with Steve. Even with the distance gone, what he feels toward Steve is different now, the intricacies of it have changed, and he has to take a while to learn exactly what it all means, what kind of potential there is. He also isn’t completely sure if Steve still loves him as more than a friend. Shuri seemed certain of it, but then she seemed certain of Bucky’s feelings too, and hence he is still on the fence. What he does know is that he will figure it out, he now knows how to really look at things inside him. He’ll know, and afterward all he can do is give it to Steve, whatever it may be, and hope their feelings and aspirations still go together. He knows he’ll want them to be close again, he just doesn’t know the shape of it yet.

He keeps looking at Steve who doesn’t seem to mind, just tosses smiles at him while he’s mixing his paints or when they’re cooking together. He has a lot of time for observation, because Hydra seems to be laying low, and there’s no concrete information they’d be able to act on. Bucky is grateful for it, he’d like to have at least this part of himself sorted before he steps into the fray again.

There are days when it’s harder to be with Steve, harder to look at him, and Bucky can feel the same urge that made him push Steve away, and meant it was even more of a relief to go into stasis in Wakanda. This time he persists, doesn’t pull away. He stays, he weathers it, and he finds familiarity on the other side. He remembers how he sometimes felt completely helpless in Steve’s presence back before the war, ever since their childhood, and it clicks for him now, unlike he managed to make it happen in Wakanda. It’s a mix of not knowing if he can follow where Steve leads, and that he wants to try regardless, because he thinks if he went alone Steve might push and push until he falls apart. Bucky wants to wrap his arms around Steve, wants to make sure that while he chases after the things he must, he’ll stay together, still stay himself.

He’s always known he needed Steve. It’s true he could, if forced, get by alone, but there was always something in him that thrived when Steve kept pulling him away from the mundane life he thought he wanted and yet didn’t. There was always more he could be, greater heights for him to seek, and he always liked himself better when he did reach for them. And maybe Steve too needed him, even when he could get by on his own; needed him to keep in touch with the reality and all the parts of life that make one human.

Since they came to Wakanda they’ve managed to become more rounded, less dependent on each other. Bucky can now admit he wants more than the ordinary life, Steve has learned to appreciate and seek life’s little comforts. Maybe they need each other less than they used to, but realizing it feels like a triumph too, because here they are together still, all because they choose to be, not because there’s anything forcing them.

It’s after that particular realization that Bucky finally talks to Steve, explains what made him push Steve away, why in the beginning he’d meant to never come back. The words hurt Steve, he can tell, he knows even now that they’re together it’s still a blow to hear them, but he can see tension unraveling too, uncertainty falling away. It’s the kind of hurt that needs to happen for healing to start, the pain that Steve has kept buried has been let back on the surface, but this time it’ll leave him instead of stay festering inside.

Bucky pulls Steve to him, and they cling on each other, arms tight, hugging harder than they could do with anyone else, but together it’s exactly right. There is lightness in Bucky’s heart, because he knows now that they will be okay, it’s all repaired between the two of them.

***

It’s a beautiful summer day when Bucky finally knows. It’s warmer than usual, in general it’s fairly cool even in the summer, but this particular day is almost summer in New York kind of warm. Steve has set up his easel outside at the patio under the awning where there’s plenty of light but the sun isn’t shining directly at him. He’s been working for hours already, and Bucky’s taking him a drink because he knows Steve will not remember for himself. If left alone he’ll more than likely surface much later completely parched. It’s a familiar pattern from their youth.

Bucky steps out, and isn’t at all surprised that Steve doesn’t even notice his presence, and so he pauses for a moment to just look at him. Steve’s focusing on his work, putting detail in the cityscape that’s obviously inspired by Ålesund even though it doesn’t depict any particular place. He’s smiling to himself, probably not for any specific reason, just because he’s content, and Bucky’s heart constricts. He’s always known he’d do hell of a lot for Steve, but he realizes he wants too, the way he used to, and now it’s no longer forbidden. He wants everything, he wants to live his life with Steve, wants to see where exactly the potential between them that they never acted on will reach. He wants to put his hands and mouth all over Steve, wants to know him in this new way.

He knows now that he is indeed in love with Steve, loves him every way he knows how to, and wants to find numerous more.

Steve dunks his brush into the jar of water and stretches his back. He seems to be done, surprisingly so since there’s hours of light left. Bucky steps forward and Steve turns to smile at him, eagerly accepting the offered drink and moving away from the easel to give Bucky a better view.

Bucky looks at the painting, taking in all the little details, the new realization sitting warm in his chest. He doesn’t know how to take it up, not yet, but he’s not in hurry really. He trusts now that the path they’re on will lead them together.

 

* * *

 

It steals over him, and hence Steve can’t actually say when the shift happened, when he went from just being content to being happy. It might have been when they finally put everything on the table with Bucky, when they finally knew why they made the choices they did. It might have been that first day with Bucky in his house. It might have even happened before that, but he can’t pinpoint the exact moment. He just wakes one morning and knows he is happy, has been for a while now. It’s in no way special morning, it’s late summer and far as he knows there’s nowhere he needs to be anytime soon. It’s still early, and he can hear the patter of rain against the window. He hopes it’ll clear up, he’d thought they might go out for a hike, since he’s felt somewhat uninspired lately with his art.

A quick check at the forecast suggests he’d better put that plan on hold; there’s a big rain front coming in from the Atlantic, and they say it should last all day. Even the fact that he’s going to have to figure out something to do at the house that’s not painting can’t take away the knowledge that he is happy. The little upsets of life can’t change the underlying truth.

He pulls the covers over himself again, thinking he might try to sleep a bit more, but he doesn’t quite manage to close his eyes. Bucky is still asleep next to him, his presence constant since that first night. They actually have an additional bed now in the other bedroom; they’ve rearranged the living room corner for him to paint in, because the light is better there, but there never was a question of one of them moving. The other bed is just for guests.

It’s an old habit to be sleeping next to each other. It’s comforting as ever, and Steve certainly has slept better with Bucky right there. They both have nightmares, but they help each other through them, make them less horrible just by being together. Maybe it’s more significant now, since there’s the new potential for it, because back in their own time it never could mean anything more than companionship. That’s what it was here too in the beginning, but day by day Steve has felt the charge in the air increase, the possibilities gathering around them.

There’s no uncertainty any more, even though they haven’t talked about their feelings for each other yet. In the beginning Steve couldn’t tell if it still was the same between them, if the shape of the love they felt for each other had stayed close enough to the original, but as time has passed every little thing has added up, and he knows now what there is between them, and he’s sure Bucky knows too. The right moment to act just hasn’t arrived yet.

Wanda has pointed to him more than once, and he knows it for himself too, that if one waits for the perfect moment it’s more than likely that it never comes, but it’s not really like that for them. Whenever they will put it to words, that’ll be the only thing that changes, it won’t make it any truer, or any more significant. They already know, they’re just moving at their pace, which is slow as molasses, but inevitable too.

He watches Bucky for a while longer, making note that the faint lines of worry and exhaustion have disappeared from his face since he came back. He’s deep in slumber, safe and content, and Steve hopes he too is happy. He thinks it’s not an unreasonable thing to assume.

He finally gives up the ghost of sleeping and pulls a sweater on over the t-shirt he slept in as he goes to make coffee. He washes his face and brushes his teeth while it brews, and when it’s done he pours a mug and goes to the living room window to look across the water. Soon enough he can hear Bucky moving about, no doubt lured to wakefulness by the promise of fresh coffee. Steve stays where he is, soaking in the early morning atmosphere, drinking his coffee.

Bucky comes to him, just as he expected, but what is new is that instead of coming to his side, Bucky hooks his arm around his waist from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder. Steve leans back into Bucky’s warmth, relaxing against him. It’s new and it’s just right, because it turns out the moment to take the step from thought to action is now.

It’s a bit awkward position, but it doesn’t matter, it’s perfect when Steve turns his head toward Bucky and their lips meet soft and easy. The kiss lingers, both of them intent on learning this new thing about each other, and Steve leans more into Bucky, wants to be as close as can be. Bucky tightens his arm around him, and his fingers dig into Steve’s stomach, making heat pool under them. Steve turns in the circle of Bucky’s arm, and puts both their coffee mugs on the window sill before crowding in closer. Bucky pulls him in and they’re kissing again, deeper and more demanding, mouths opening to let each other in.

It’s a wonderful feeling, to just kiss and kiss, and while Steve feels his skin responding under Bucky’s hands, he doesn’t push them forward, and neither does Bucky. They don’t need to talk to know that for today this is enough, to kiss and to be close to each other. In time they’re sure to learn each other’s bodies and the way they respond to everything, the anticipation lingers in the air even now, but it’s not urgent. Steve likes the idea that there are many more days ahead for him to find out new things about Bucky.

Today he learns the softness of Bucky’s lips, the contrasting roughness of his stubble, and the way he holds on to Steve, clearly communicating he means to never let go. Steve thinks that all in all it’s not a bad thing that it’s a rainy day, because curling up together on the couch sounds better than ever.

 

* * *

 

It’s a pretty much perfect day even if it’s only mid-morning, Bucky decides when he’s building a fire at the living room fireplace. It’s a stormy day, the wind is whipping rain droplets at the windows in a way that’s typical for the fall season. Steve is in the kitchen making them hot chocolate, the cat is sleeping in the armchair in the corner, and it’s a good day to be doing nothing at all special.

These days Bucky isn’t idle all the time. He has gone after Hydra with Steve and his team, and takes part in all the related planning activities. He also volunteers at the Ålesund library. He’s visited it often enough, and once they had a shortage of staff while he was around, and he has since been helping with stocking the shelves and everything related. He’s even helped with the bookkeeping, since he has several years of experience in accounting from before the war. It might be the future, but the basics of balancing the books are still the same. He was offered a part time position since they felt he was so useful, but he decided to continue volunteering, saying he’s independently wealthy and that they should put the money into the content or hiring someone in addition, he’s happy to help regardless, which is true enough. He has a semi-regular schedule there, which allows for the missions, and he likes the structure it brings to his life. While he’s working Steve focuses on his art most of the time, although he does teach weekly art classes at the community center to kids.

Today they have nowhere to be, no special plans, and the reason why Bucky thinks it’s a perfect day is because these days they’re happy enough that even ordinary days are good ones. There was a time when he thought it would be enough to reach a neutral level on most days; compared to his past that would have been a miracle, but things are so much better now, and hence any day that isn’t actively going wrong is a genuinely good day for him, and the bad days are few and far in between. He knows it’s the same for Steve as well.

He likes not having any plans sometimes, likes to just see how the day is going to turn out. With the weather as it is, it’s a safe bet they’re not going out unless forced, so maybe they’ll spend the day curled up together on the couch reading or watching something. Or maybe he’ll spread the blankets in front of the fire, tumble Steve down on them and put his mouth on every inch of his skin. He spends a while on that track of thought, especially remembering the sounds Steve makes when Bucky bites him at the inner thigh. Not hard, just enough to leave a mark on the sensitive skin, but it always gets to Steve.

He’s called out of his musings by the doorbell, and he says, “Remember your face,” when Steve goes to answer it. They usually don’t wear the disguise at home, because it’s weird to look at each other like that, not to mention there are times when both of them feel their reality is shaky enough as is without adding the uncanny valley of wrong faces to it. There is a situational tracker in the disguise program, which means it turns automatically on as they leave the house, but opening the door for someone is a case where they need to manually put it up.

Turns out it wasn’t necessary, since of all possible people it’s Shuri and Wanda that Steve ushers in, dripping wet and shivering.

“Thought we’d surprise you guys, but figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to fly right in, so Ayo dropped us on the hilltop,” Shuri explains.

“Should have checked the weather, though. It’s raining upwards,” Wanda adds.

“Never making that mistake again. Why’d you have to settle this far up north?” Shuri shivers so hard her teeth actually rattle, which makes Steve decide they can talk later, and he shows the girls into the guest room to dry up.

They did bring additional clothes, and soon enough they’re dry and warming up, sat at the corner of the couch. They have overly large knitted sweaters on top of their own clothes, Steve and Bucky have enough to share with potentially all their friends since they’re practical in the local weather. Bucky has the fire crackling happily, and Steve brings them all hot chocolate. It’s an unexpected turn to their day, but Bucky would never complain, even if he did like the place his thoughts had taken him before the girls showed up. There is always more time for that.

An hour later everyone is warm and comfortable, and the cat has climbed on the lap of a slightly confused Shuri; apparently she never was one for pets. Wanda and Steve, debating on what the lunch should be, move to the kitchen, and Bucky keeps an eye on them through the door, smiling at how well they work together. Steve has told him they used to cook together a lot in Sokovia, and clearly the routine is still intact, even though Steve has to direct Wanda to find what she needs.

Shuri, with her braids let down from the top of her head to dry out, is taking a slow circle around the room, still holding the cat, and Bucky is fairly sure they’re going to have their security system completely overhauled before she leaves, because she seems to find it impossible to not tinker with things. She zeroes on their photo shelf, and Bucky goes to look at them with her.

All the photos on display are old, since any newer ones contain very recognizable people, but they also like to keep their memories visible. There is the wedding photo of Sarah and Joseph Rogers, which Steve got from the Smithsonian, since it’s the only surviving photo of them. There never were many taken of them in the first place, them being poor and not generally able to afford to have portraits taken. There are none at all of Steve as a child.

There is Peggy Carter with her family, her children less than ten years old in the photo. Bucky had wondered at the choice when he first came to Ålesund, he would have expected to see a photo of her as they knew her. He understands now, though; life for them has taken its meandering path, and there are a lot of possibilities that have disappeared, but they’ve learned to accept and to live in the now. These days, Steve is just glad to be reminded that she was obviously happy in her life.

The third photo is of the whole Barnes family, Becca just a baby in it, and the fourth is her and Bucky, six and ten years of age. Shuri comments on their almost identical expressions, and Bucky tells her about Becca and her life, showing the digital photo of her with Steve taken a couple of weeks after the Battle of New York. Bucky is still guiltily glad she never had to find out about him, but he is happy she got to meet Steve, and that Steve was able to later tell him she really had lived a happy life. She’d been healthy to the end, had died in her sleep in her own home, which is the best possible way to go.

They’re called to the kitchen then and assigned their tasks, with Bucky complaining about getting assassin stereotyped with all the chopping he has to do. Steve pokes him on the side and smiles when Bucky grins at him. He gets on with it, letting the happy chatter wash over him.

His and Steve’s old families have been removed further from them in time than they ever expected, but they have each other, more thoroughly than they ever did before. They’re gaining others too into their circle, a family of their choice rather than of blood, but no less precious for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, now I’m sort of ready for the canon to be turned over again. Thank you all for reading! <3
> 
> This story ended up in a completely different place geographically from what I originally envisioned, it was a funny process. I definitely recommend googling Ålesund, it really is a beautiful city. Also a sign of how spontaneously the story grew was I didn’t know about the cat until literally the moment I wrote her into the story. Steve and Bucky end up never giving her a name, but by the second winter she’s well and truly at home inside.
> 
> I’m also on [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/post/172929200392/from-these-hardened-hours).


End file.
